


Changing Fate

by velja



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Prophecy, Romance, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 05, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 48,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velja/pseuds/velja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world of Angel & Co. at Wolfram & Hart is turned upside down when Wesley does a spell and Spike gets thrown back in time to Season One. That alone would be enough to screw up everything, but with Spike’s growing feelings for Wesley it gets even more complicated. Will Spike find a way back to his time? And… does he even want to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic a long time ago, back when I hadn't even seen Season Five. This also happened to be my first attempt at writing in English (in Summer 2004). Now, ten years later, I polished some parts and completed others and… well, this is the result. I hope you like it.
> 
> This one's dedicated, like everything I write, to my sister Chris who showed me the wonderful world of fanfiction. I owe you so much!

**Prologue**

_January 2004, Wesley's office at Wolfram & Hart_

Wesley was sitting at his desk. It was high-stacked with scrolls and books and his eyes were fixed on the one balanced on his knees when the office doors were suddenly pushed open with force.

"Hey, you ready?" Spike bounced inside, black duster surrounding him as per usual, a smirk on his face.

Wesley startled, which caused the book on his knees to clap shut, and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Spike, would you stop bursting into my office like that? Why don't you use your once again corporeal self to knock on the door?"

Spike cocked an eyebrow at Wesley. "Got better things to do with my corporeal self," he replied with a smug smile. "And besides, why should I knock on your door. It's not like you're doing something, say… indecent, is it?"

Wesley remained silent and so Spike continued: "Not here at least. Now, your flat on the other hand…"

"I beg your pardon?" Wesley looked up incredulously.

Spike smirked at the ex-watcher and perched himself on the edge of the desk. "Hey, vampire hearing, remember? The walls in your flat, not that soundproof, all I'm saying."

Wesley sighed again. "Spike, have you ever heard of something called 'privacy'?"

"If you want privacy you shouldn't invite a vampire to stay with you!"

Wesley quirked his lips. "So if I want my privacy I'd rather throw you out?"

"Na, you wouldn't."

Anyone who didn't know Spike all that well would not have picked up on the hint of insecurity hidden in the vampire's casual remark. But Wesley did. He'd come to know Spike quite well over the last few weeks.

"No, I wouldn't," he therefore confirmed.

Spike let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"You can stay as long as you want," Wesley assured.

"Yeah, well, not that I wouldn't enjoy sticking around here torturing Mr. Big Boss Vamp all day and night." Spike smiled slightly.

"Right, like you enjoyed it when you were stuck here as a ghost." Wesley smiled back.

"See now, that was… I was just pissed because… well, it's no fun trying to drive the Poof around the bent when you can't touch anything. Or throw things at him, you know?"

"As I recall you succeeded more than once, Spike. You just have to stay in the same room as Angel to drive him mad."

They smiled at each other briefly and then Wesley turned back to the book on his knees.

"So, what're you doing? Ready to head home?" Spike asked.

"What? No, I am afraid I'm going to stay here quite a while. Today I found this very interesting ancient book. It looks like it is some kind of Minovarian spell book. You know, the Minovarians…"

"Yeah, whatever!" Spike interrupted. "So, you're staying?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Okay, I'm off then!" Spike walked over to the office door, his long black leather coat waving around him. Before he strolled out he turned his head and looked back at Wesley, who had already become absorbed in his book again.

"Hey, Wes?"

The ex-watcher raised his head reluctantly.

"Don't forget to eat again, okay?" Spike couldn't quite successfully hide his concern behind a mocking tone.

"Yes, mother!" Wesley gave back.

The vampire rolled his eyes in return. "For that I'm gonna take your bike!"

With that Spike turned and left the office. Wesley watched him go with a mixture of annoyance and fondness. "Can somebody please tell me why I let this obnoxious creature disturb my oh-so-quiet life?" He sighed and forced his eyes away from the door. Then he shook his head and tried to lead his concentration back to the book. And eventually Spike's face disappeared out of his mind.

* * *

 

Early next morning the door opened and a cleansing woman entered Wesley's office. She stopped in the middle of the dim room when she noticed Wesley hunched up in his chair with his head on the tabletop, sleeping.

"Oh," she whispered and tiptoed backwards to the door. When she had nearly reached it Wesley awoke with a start. He sat up and stretched his arms. Then he noticed the woman in the door.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," the cleansing lady stammered, "I didn't know you were still here…working. I didn't wanna disturb you."

"Never mind, it's okay. But you can spare my office tonight, I'm going to stay here for …the rest of the night."

"Yes, okay, sir. And again, I'm sorry."

Wesley watched her close the door. Then he switched on his desk lamp and glimpsed at his watch. Nearly six in the morning. He sighed and walked over to the large window where he could see his reflection. He looked pale and crumpled with tousled hair and shadows under his eyes. Wesley ran a hand through his hair and whispered: "Another night at the office."

He tried to recall the last time he had spent more than a few hours at home but failed. Since inviting Spike to live in his flat Wesley hadn't spent much time there. And the blond vampire had been staying for nearly three weeks now. Spike had longed to leave the Wolfram & Hart building after haunting it as a ghost. And since Angel continuingly refused to pay Spike, Wesley had taken the stray vampire in before either of them could think twice.

Wesley could imagine Spike at his home now, lying on his couch, watching TV all night, drinking and…well, did he dare to call it brooding? Well, because that was what it looked like after all. Dying to save the world had obviously changed the vampire. Or had it been the bond with Buffy that had made the change? Spike never talked about his relationship with the Slayer but Wesley knew that the vampire loved her. And she must have developed some feelings for Spike, too. Otherwise she wouldn't have seemed so grieve-stricken when she had visited LA after the defeat of the First.

Sometimes Wesley wondered why Spike had not gone after her now that he was back from death and no longer bound to Wolfram & Hart or LA at all. Why didn't he even let her know he was back?

If he'd have gone off to Buffy in Rome, that's where she was currently staying as far as he knew, they could possibly be together…be a couple.

But Spike hadn't left. He had stayed in LA for over two month now, despite the obvious animosity between Angel and him. And if Wesley was honest he was very, very glad about it. He was glad because…

No, Wesley didn't want to think about his relationship with the vampire right now, he had work to do. Not that they had a relationship to think about, mind you. They were allies, co-workers… maybe friends. But nothing more. So, back to work.

The book he had been studying through the night, before he'd gone off to slumber land, had contained a very fascinating spell. If his tired mind had translated it correctly it would be…well, it would turn their whole world upside down. At least Angel's world. And Spike's of course.

Spike, there he was again.

Wesley couldn't help it. All his thoughts seemed to end up at the obnoxious vampire.

Wesley wondered what it was about Spike that fascinated him in a way that made it nearly impossible not to think about him all the time. After all, wasn't he just another vampire with a soul? He had started as an evil being, had terrorised the world and then he had gotten a soul. And now he fought the good fight, well, sort of. Wasn't he simply like Angel 2.0?

"No!" Wesley let out a snort at that thought. Spike was nothing like Angel, absolutely nothing at all. The two of them could not be more opposite.

Wesley turned away from the window and walked over to the small bathroom adjourning his office, a plan slowly forming in his head. He would take a shower (without thinking about Spike) and afterwards he would look for some early breakfast (Spike's mock-concern was still ringing in his ears). He would check on his translation again (again without thinking about Spike) and then he would talk to Angel about the spell.

"Good plan. Period!"

* * *

 

"Are you serious?"

A few hours later Angel looked suspiciously up to the Englishman standing in front of his desk.

"Yes, I am," Wesley answered, "I found the spell within the lot of books we inherited from the 'CGM'."

"The what?"

"The firm Wolfram & Hart took over last week?" Wesley suspected Angel didn't know half of the projects 'his' firm worked on in one time. "Well, anyway. I worked on it all night. The translation of the spell I mean."

"And you're sure about the translation?"

Wesley flinched and walked over to the window. Showing Angel his back he sad flatly: "Yes."

"Absolutely sure?" Angel watched Wesley's shoulders go rigid. He added briskly: "Look, Wes, I don't have to remind you of the tiny mistakes you've made before about some prophecies and stuff, do I? Remember the Shanshu-Prophecy?"

Wesley turned around but watched the floor instead of looking at the vampire. "Yes, Angel. I will not trust in a spell or a prophecy ever again without checking it double and more times. Even without you reminding me of my past failures." He threw an icy glare towards Angel and continued: "So you can be sure, I checked the translation several times, and I had some of my employees take a look at it, too."

"Good, because I don't wanna end up dust when we try the spell!" Angel smiled.

"Wait, we try?" Wesley looked alarmed. "I am not sure this is a good idea, Angel. There's no saying what dangers the spell could create. We need to do more research. Or perhaps we could do some experimenting first. Just to be on the safe side!"

Angel frowned. "You mean like some kind of guinea-pig-vampire?"

"Well, that's not exactly what I had in mind…" Wesley broke off when a noise from outside the office disturbed their discussion. A familiar British voice called: "Hey, sod off, you bloody perk. You can't throw me out of this office, I'm working here!" A different voice muffled something and then they heard Spike continue enraged: "I bloody well know that it's not my office, I don't have a fucking office here." Again the other one spoke. And then Spike's voice rose again: "What? I am not spying on anyone!"

Wesley and Angel listened to Spike's complaints with very opposite feelings. Wesley suddenly felt sorry for the vampire because he didn't even have a place of his own in this large building, well, nowhere exactly. Angel on the other hand pondered the fact that without a miracle to happen he'd most likely have to endure his grandchilde till one of them finally turned into dust. Wait, no!

"Spike?" Angel shouted, "Spike, come in here!"

Angel turned to Wesley with a smirk replacing his normally brooding expression. "You wanted a guinea pig, Wesley?" he asked calmly.

"What?" Wesley glanced at Angel and shook his head. "Angel, no! Not Spike!"

"Why not? He's perfect! He's a vampire. And though I know Spike is not too keen on magic I'm sure we'll be able to persuade him. We have to! He's perfect, there's nothing we have to loose. If the spell works, hey, great. Then I can try it, too. If not…if anything goes wrong…well, it's just Spike, isn't it?"

Wesley couldn't help but stare incredulously. Angel could not possibly mean that, could he? He talked about Spike as if he didn't mean anything at all. He seemed to be totally cool about sacrificing Spike to the unknown dangers of a stupid spell…it sounded much more like Angelus speaking!

Suddenly the door opened and Spike strolled into the office.

"What do you want, Peaches?" he growled.

"Spike, I have a job for you!"

"Too bad I don't work for you then, isn't it?" Spike eyed his grandsire suspiciously. "What job?"

"Well, actually it's less a job and more an offer. It's… a gift you could say."

"Angel, no!" Wesley tried to interrupt.

"Shut up, Wes." Angel growled.

"But…"

"Yeah, shut up, Wes!" Spike repeated. Both vampires ignored Wesley's complaints but stared at each other. Wesley's gaze went from Angel to Spike and finally he gave up.

"Okay, do what you want, both of you!" he said flatly. "But don't blame me if one of you ends up in a big pile of dust!"

With that Wesley turned on his heels and left Angel's office, both vampires looking after him. Then Spike turned around and said:

"So, Peaches. A gift?"

"Yeah, well, Spike," Angel took a deep breath he didn't own. "What would you say if I'd know of a spell that could make you walk in the sun without burning?"

"What?" Spike threw a doubtful glance at Angel.

"Wesley found a spell that allows a vampire to really sustain the sunlight." Angel waited for Spike to say something. When the younger vamp just kept staring into the nothingness, Angel continued: "So you could be able to do whatever you want, to go wherever you want, to…well, anything."

"We." Spike said.

"Huh?"

"We, not me alone. You, too!" Spike looked suspicious. "Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me, Peaches?"

Angel looked like a cornered animal. "Well, consider it a favour!"

"Pfft, bollocks!" Spike snorted, "I somehow doubt that!"

"Okay, let's say if I do you this favour you'll do me another one?" Angel stood up from his chair and walked over to Spike till they almost contacted.

"What. Do. You. Want?" Spike held his gaze.

"I want you out! If the spell works you go. You leave. Not just my office, not just my building. You'll leave my town, too. No LA for you! And you also leave my people alone. No connection to any of them working here." Angel stepped even closer, "Especially Wesley, you leave him alone! Got it?"

Spike stared into Angel's determined face. He was serious, of course, Spike thought. But why had he mentioned Wesley explicitly? He had no special relation to him, had he? Okay, he stayed at his place, but other than that…And what about 'his girl'?

"What about the Slayer?" Spike asked, "does your bloody well-structured order include her as well?"

Angel stepped back from Spike and turned to the window. He smiled slightly when he said: "I'm sure you won't bother her and her finally normal life. If you wanted to you would have been off to Italy by now. I know pretty well that you're too scared to go to her."

"Oh, sod off. I'm not scared!" Spike's voice was sharp.

"No?" Angel turned to face the other vampire. "So how come you're still here? I guess you know pretty damn well that she didn't mean it when she said she loved you!" Angel watched Spike closely. "She never truly loved you, Spike. Not when you two were…together nor when you helped her 'save the world'. And she never will, Spike, she never will!"

Spike looked down. He knew it was true, didn't he? Deep inside, where the bloody soul was hidden, he had always known the truth. And that's why he had stayed in LA, because he had nowhere else to go.

"Oh, and besides," Angel added after a while, "I think Buffy is perfectly able to take care of herself. I'm in no need to make decisions for her."

"Oh," Spike looked up, "but the others aren't capable of making decisions on their own? That's what you're saying?"

Angel suddenly looked guilty.

"Oh, bugger off, Peaches," Spike shouted, "Your people? You don't own them, do you? And Wesley? He would do great without you! If you'd only let him!"

Angel rushed up to Spike and took him by the throat. "What do you mean by that?"

Spike suddenly slammed his elbow into Angel's face. The elder vampire staggered backwards in surprise and let go of Spike.

"Come on, Angel! Do you think I don't know what you fucking did to them? How you manipulated them all to have them stay around?"

Angel looked like a deer in the headlights. "I…" he tried to stutter.

"Save it!" Spike spat and started walking towards the door. "I'm out of it. How could I ever think of us getting along for more than a few sodding days?" He reached the door but turned around to face a stunned Angel once more. "Don't worry about your little secret, Peaches. I won't tell anybody what a poor little cheater you've become! All I want is to get away from here. And if I therefore have to trust in magic then…well, I don't know if I want to, but…nevertheless…I'm out of your hair for good!"

Spike rushed out of the office and stormed along the floor. He tried to calm down and think. To walk in the sun…no, there were always consequences with magic and they were quite never good. It wasn't worth the risk, was it?

But suddenly a small voice crept into his head. It was like the tiny little devil sitting on his shoulder, whispering promises into his ear. 'Think about what it would feel like…the sun! Remember the last time you stood in the warm summer sun with the Gem of Amara on your finger. You didn't enjoy it enough back then, did you? No, all you could think about was…the Slayer! And now? Think about it! Think about the possibilities! You could be with her again, you would be able to share her life, the dark and the light! The light!'

Spike shook his head. But the consequences…

"Oh, bollocks with the sodding consequences!" he murmured. 'Nothing to loose, have I? What is it that holds me back here? Peaches? Sure as hell not!'

With these thoughts fighting back and forth in his head Spike went for Wesley's office. The sooner he could leave this hell the better!

Storming inside without knocking Spike found Wesley once again sitting behind his desk absorbed in a book. The book, the one that held the key to a life in the sun.

And suddenly Spike was determined to try this spell. He rushed up to Wesley, grabbed his arm and growled:

"Okay, let's try this."

"What? No, I won't!" Wesley shook his head and tried to lay down the book he was holding.

"Yes you will!" Spike prompted and increased his firm grip around the watcher's wrists.

Wesley avoided the eyes of the vampire standing in front of him when he muttered: "No, look…it's too dangerous, we don't even know..."

"I take the risk, come on." Spike released Wesley's hands, who put down the book and started pacing through the room.

"Oh, great. Really! If I make a mistake, if I screw it up and something happens to you….it's good to know that it was you who took the risk when I will be the one that got you killed."

"You won't get me killed, pet. I trust you!"

"But…" Wesley tried to reply.

"Wesley, for heaven's sake, stop it! I've made my bloody decision. With this spell I get the chance to change everything. I can watch a sunset not only through shaded windows. I'll be able to walk in the world like you do, every time and everywhere. You are the one thing standing in the way… Look, I want this! So please stop being a sissy and perform the bloody spell. Otherwise I do have to wonder why you fucking hate me that much…"

"I don't hate you! I…" Wesley gulped down the rest of his words before he would confess too much.

"Wesley, I made my choice. And I choose the light."

'Choose the light'…that rang a bell somewhere in Wesley's mind, but before he could think about it any further the vampire added: "And besides, I'm leaving anyway. Whether you'll do it or not, I'm fucking outta here!"

"What do you mean?" Wesley gasped. "You're leaving? Why?"

Spike sighed. The ex-watcher was kind of cute when he looked worried. Wait, Wesley cute? But, anyway, he couldn't stay! Not with Angel the jerk bossing around with anyone's life like he owned them all. He couldn't stand watching it any longer. So he had to go, right? What else could he do? It's not like he could try and change the sodding attitude of the bloody old poof, could he?

Spike looked straight into Wesley's blue eyes and asked: "So. You're gonna do it?"

"Spike…I…"

He let out a final sigh and turned away from Wesley. "It's okay, pet. I'll go and collect my few belongings from your place and then I'm off! Bye, and thanks for letting me stay at your home. It was kinda…nice." He threw one last glance at the Englishman and opened the door.

Wesley watched Spike's departure in frozen terror. 'He's leaving! Do something!'

"Spike!" Wesley whispered. He couldn't let him leave, could he? Not without saying anything, doing anything!

Wesley let out a desperate sigh. If he was going to loose someone important again, and Spike had become very important to him he realized, than he had to at least give him what he deserved, did he not?

He stormed after Spike out of the door and shouted:

"Spike, come back!"

* * *

 

Half an hour later Wesley was standing in his office glancing nervously at Spike. The vampire was pacing in front of him, waiting restlessly for him to start chanting.

"You are absolutely sure about this?" the ex-watcher asked for the umpteenth time.

Spike stopped pacing and threw an annoyed glare towards him.

"Okay, okay. I get it. You're sure." Wesley sighed. "So let's start then."

"Yeah!" the vampire muttered.

Wesley took the spell book from his desk and braced himself. Then he started chanting in a low voice.

"Verungare tanae lipourtis mungae. Com thead lef horumos radiare."

Suddenly a faint blue glow appeared between himself and the waiting vampire. First it looked like a blue pea but then it began to spread and grow very quickly.

Wesley stopped chanting and looked through the blue light at Spike. The vampire threw a worried glance back and asked:

"What the bloody hell is this? Wes? Is this right?"

"I…I assume…" Wesley didn't know what to answer. The glowing had constantly continued to spread and was now starting to encircle Spike.

"Shall I go on, Spike?" he asked.

The vampire shrugged and reached out one hand towards the blue veil between him and Wesley. The second he touched it the blue turned into blinding white.

"No!" Wesley shouted, "Don't touch it!"

But it was too late. The gleaming bubble suddenly surrounded the vampire completely. The light went brighter and brighter and Wesley had to close his eyes to shield them from the blinding light.

Suddenly a loud thunder roared through the room and the bubble exploded in a blazing flash.

"Bloody…"

Wesley heard the vampire's shout cut off in midair and forced his eyes open. His office was empty.

Spike was gone.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_December 1999 at Angel Investigations_

"Morning!" Angel stepped out of the elevator, entered the office and looked around. "Wesley not in yet?"

"No," Cordelia looked up from the fashion magazine on her desk. "It's his first time to be late."

"Well, technically… he doesn't work for me, so he's not really…!"

Cordelia stared at the vampire. "What do you mean, he doesn't work for you?"

"Well, I mean he doesn't work for me, officially," Angel shrugged.

"You're telling me that he shows up here every day, for more than two weeks now, sits here with his nose poking into boring books, he goes out and, well, sort of fights beside you, helps you, risks his life and he doesn't get paid for it? You're kidding!"

"I think fiddling around with a weapon in a way that you have to worry about cutting himself to pieces is no sort of fighting." Angel mocked. "And, no, he doesn't get paid for that."

He walked over to the coffee machine and poured some of it into a cup.

"But he's trying, Angel." Cordelia stood up for the ex-watcher. "He's helping! So he's no good with the fighting, okay. So what? You know that I'm no help for you there, too and just because my head recently bursts with visions... Wesley might not be as good in killing demons as, well, everybody else is, but at least he recognizes a demon if he sees one. Or better, if one hits him."

Angel turned to look at her in surprise. "Why are you defending him?" he asked. "You don't still have a crush on him, do you?"

"Hell, no! That was a very fleeting Sunnydale impulse. We're in LA now! I can do much better, right?" Cordelia sent Angel a confident smile before she continued more seriously: "I just… I think that Wesley can be very helpful with all his demon knowledge and his languages and stuff. And, lets face it. Without him I might have been blind or even dead when that creepy Barney-guy tried to sell my eyes to this evil law firm. How long would it have taken you to get me out of there without Wesley's help, hm?"

"Well," the vampire muttered. "I guess you're right. He can be useful. Occasionally. But…" Angel's voice trailed off. He wasn't able to think of an excuse that would satisfy Cordelia. But he had to find an excuse, or else he'd have to tell her about their hopeless financial situation.

"But, ugh…" he tried, "but we don't even know how long Wesley wants to stay in LA. Maybe he has other plans?"

"Oh yeah, Mr. Stupid. That's why he's been popping in every day for two weeks. Look, remember my first head bursting vision, do you? And the morning afterwards?" Cordelia looked at Angel expectantly.

He nodded uncomfortably at his friend who continued: "Remember Wesley lurking in the door, prattling and babbling till you asked him to stay for breakfast? You know that he wants to stay."

"So he wants to stay, okay," Angel finally conceded. "But would he work for me? You know, the thing is…he's a watcher and I'm a vampire."

"Nonsense!" Cordelia brushed him off.

"Hey, I may have given up the killing, but I'm still a vampire!" Angel insisted.

"I know you're a vampire, doofus." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "But it doesn't matter."

Angel opened his mouth to protest but Cordelia went on:

"What I mean is, it doesn't matter that Wesley is a watcher, or an ex-watcher technically since he was fired by the council. And it doesn't matter that you're a vampire. As long as you both fight on the same side. Right?"

"I don't know," Angel still had doubts. "Wesley is…sometimes he's just so…weird. I guess it's... He doesn't trust me."

"It's not that. Wesley's not stupid. He saw you in Sunnydale, helping Buffy, fighting the mayor with us. He knows that you're not evil anymore. Well," the brunette added with a frown, "as long as you don't get a happy."

Angel glared back at her but didn't bother with an answer. After a sip from his mug he asked:

"Then why does he behave like…well, like he does when I'm around?"

"Gee, he's Wesley!" Cordelia shrugged. "Perhaps it's a British thing. Giles was like that, too. You know, people from across the ocean always act a little weird, don't they?"

Her eyes met Angel who looked at her pointedly.

"Oh come on, Angel," the girl gave in, "you really don't count as foreign anymore, do you?"

Angel said nothing but walked over to his desk. He sat down, grabbed a book and pretended to be reading when Cordelia followed him into his office.

"Okay, you "not-being-weird-at-all-Irish-vampire-guy," she tried to make him laugh. "So what about Wesley?"

Angel looked up and smiled a little. "Well, I'll talk to him, okay? I'll offer him a job. Now are you satisfied?" He sighed and tried not to think about where to take the money from. The money he had to pay Cordelia and, if he would accept a job, Wesley, too.

"No," Cordelia said, "I mean, yes, it would be great. But if you wanna offer Wesley a job you have to find him first."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's already 10:30 a.m. and he's not here yet. That's weird."

"So maybe he's taking a day off…" Angel stopped when Cordelia's glare hit him. He knew she was right. Wesley had shown up at nine sharp for the last two weeks. This was weird. Something must have happened.

"Do you know where he's staying?"

* * *

_Same time, down in the sewers of LA_

Whhhhooooooooshhhhhhhh!

A blinding flash of light was followed by some loud and cracking noises. The walls of the sewers quaked as a swirling bubble showed up out of nowhere. In the middle of it appeared something that looked like a body. It kept spinning round and round and when the cracking noise grew louder and the bubble suddenly exploded, the body was thrown against the wall and dropped onto the ground.

The cracking sound died and so did the shaking. The only noise heard was the shout that escaped the person on the ground.

"…hell!" Spike sat up and looked around. "What the hell…where am I?"

He stood up and examined himself for serious injuries. His head was aching and he could feel a couple of bruises on his face but other than that the vampire seemed to be all right. Except for the point that he didn't know where he was and how the hell he got there. Last thing he remembered he had been in the middle of the office and Wesley was about to…

"Oh bugger off, what did he do to me?" he muttered. When he got no answer he started to get a closer look at the place where he obviously was stranded.

"Hey, I know this. No doubt, LA sewers. Thank god, I haven't been blasted to the end of the world."

And with that he started walking through the tunnel.

* * *

_Same time, Wesley's apartment_

Wesley looked up from the book he'd been studying for the better part of the day and tried to stretch his stiff neck. He hadn't intended the research to take so long. The whole day he had been trying to translate the 'Prophecy of Malash', which was written in a not very common demon language. But due to his sheer endless knowledge he had been able to figure out nearly every word by now. Which of course didn't mean that he was able to put any sense into the words.

He had come across the prophecy a few weeks ago, when he had been reading some ancient texts before going to sleep. God knows he had been bored to death these days. His 'rogue demon hunter' days.

But now life was going better and better. He was really glad about the coincidence of meeting…well, what? Acquaintances, friends? Wesley didn't dare to call Angel and Cordelia the latter. Well, not yet. But perhaps, if he would prove himself worthy being called a friend, who knows, perhaps being all alone would no longer be his fate…

Wesley jumped in shock when he suddenly heard the sound of wood bursting under enormous pressure.

'The door!' he gasped, trying to suppress the panic. He thought of rising and grabbing a weapon, anything, but he couldn't move a muscle. He simply stayed at his desk, waiting for the intruder to come and find him.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Oh my…" Wesley tried to scream but he didn't get the chance of it.

With a speed unnatural for a creature of that size it moved to his side. One single strike with a claw and Wesley fell unconsciously to the floor.


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"No, no. Thanks. Bye."

Cordelia hung up the phone and sighed.

"Nothing?" Angel came over and leaned against her desk.

"No, absolutely nothing at all. I tried here and there and everywhere. The whole city doesn't know Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

"Cordy, we're supposed to be investigators. So we have to investigate."

"All right, Mr. Smart, and where do we start?" the vision-girl demanded.

"Let's see," Angel expressed, "where to start? How about the beginning? What do we know about Wesley?" He looked at Cordelia expectantly.

"First of all…there's the English. Hhm, did we check the 'Museum of British Arts'?"

Angel gave her a look.

"Okay, okay. He is English, he has no taste in fashion whatsoever and he's the most horrible kisser I've ever met." Cordelia shivered at the thought of it.

Angel glared at her and mocked: "So with that information we can rule out the fashion stores and all places beneath a mistletoe, thank god."

"Hold on, doofus. That's just what popped up first in my mind. There must be more."

"So, while you sort out the things you know about Wesley and that you can tell me without getting too intimate, I'll go and try…"

"Books!" Cordelia shouted triumphantly.

"What?"

"Books!" she repeated. "He's a book boy, he owns thousands of them for his research."

"Great, so we're gonna look for a place packed with books and stay there waiting for him to show up, yeah?" Angel was beginning to loose his patience.

"Well, either that or we check the libraries with ancient books and ask if someone called Wesley Wyndam-Pryce has an ID-card there."

Angel shot her a very questionable glance. "And then…?"

"And then, that's it. If he has a card they must have an address, a phone number or anything. Otherwise you don't get a card, see?"

"And you think they'll give his address to anyone who asks nicely?" Angel doubted.

"Not to anyone, of course. But to me, in case it's a nice little library guy who I will soft-soap with my fabulous acting skills."

"And in case it's a little nice library girl working there?" Angel asked.

"Well, then it's your turn to start soft-soaping!" And with that she gave him her 1000-watt smile.

* * *

Spike followed the tunnel to where it let into a deserted alley and reached it just in time to see the sun setting down beneath the familiar building across the street.

"Bloody hell!" he swore and started running to meet one last sunbeam. There he stood, breathing hard, unsure if to take the risk.

"Bugger off! If it hurts I'll pull away quickly. No big deal, so come on!" he tried to encourage himself.

Carefully he stretched out his left hand till it was bathed in sunlight. For a second nothing happened and he was about to take a step forward into the light, smiling incredulously, when suddenly…

"Oh, fuck! Fuck!" he cried out in pain and pulled back. Jumping furiously into the secure shadow he plunged his hand into the pocket of his duster to stop the flames from burning any more of his flesh. The connection of his scorched hand with the leather shot new waves of pain through his entire body and so he pulled out of the pocket again soon.

"Oh bugger!" he flinched at the sight of the smouldering flesh that covered most parts of his fingers. The skin was peeling nearly everywhere. "Sod off! Really great spell, Peaches! Fuck, I wish you'd have tried it, too!" he cursed. 'Perhaps I should go and tell him it worked. And then I'll watch him go out into the sun! Yeah, that'll be bloody fun!'

While he waited for the sodding sun to eventually set he loafed around the shadowy street and looked up to the top floor of the Wolfram & Hart building in front of him.

'Something's wrong,' he suddenly thought, 'different.' He took a pack of fags out of his pocket and smoked thoughtfully.

When he was done he stroke his short hair back and walked towards the entrance of the law firm. But halfway there he changed his mind, turned around and went back into the darkness of the alley.

Something was definitely wrong here. Not only the building looked different, everything did. The streets, the people…everything. It even smelled wrong…it wasn't the LA he knew.

Suddenly a thought flashed through his mind. His eyes darted to the ground where he found what he needed. A few steps away lay a newly looking piece of newspaper. He reached down, grabbed it and scanned the upper part of the page. There it was. "Saturday, December 22nd, 1999".

"Wait," Spike gasped. "1999? That's not…that's impossible!" His face went an inch paler than it already was. It couldn't be true. If it was, it meant…that would mean…

"That means you've gone four years back in the past!" someone said behind him.

He shot around to see the owner of that voice and was blinded by a bright light. A light that went right through him and made his soul ache.

* * *

The young guy behind the information desk smiled apologetically at the Brunette and said: "I'm really sorry I couldn't help you."

Angel was watching the scene from his position at the front door of the library. He couldn't help but smile about the way Cordelia always got what she wanted. Her plan had succeeded, all the library guys had fallen for her soft-soaping and had been looking into their files for someone called Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

The only flaw in the plan had been that Wesley simply didn't have a card of any library in LA. That was that.

"Nothing and nothing again!" Cordelia said when she reached Angel at the door. They both turned around and strolled towards Angel's car.

"We've been to every single library in the city. So what are we gonna do now, Angel?"

"Well, there's nothing we can start right now. Tonight we won't find him anyway."

Cordelia gave him a concerned glance, but Angel continued: "I'm gonna think about another way to track Wesley down and you're gonna go home and try to get some sleep, okay? No complains, I'll drive you home."

"Okay. Thanks."

They drove quietly through the night until Angel stopped in front of Cordy's apartment. He turned the gearshift into the waiting position and said:

"Look, perhaps Wesley hasn't shown up because it's the weekend. Taking a break, you know? I'm sure he'll be back on Monday, right as rain."

"Well, I don't know," Cordelia answered doubtfully and left the car. "Perhaps you're right. Good night, Angel!"

"Good night, Cordy!"

* * *

Spike stomped furiously through the sewers, fists clenched, and mocked at the words the strange lightning voice had told him:

"I'm not allowed to help you," he mimicked in a high voice, "you have to find a way back on your own. Try and think about someone who might be able to help you. Think about who you know in this place!"

"Well," he said shifting to his own deeper voice, "the place is one of my tiniest problems, I suppose. More likely it's the sodding **time** that's playing against me."

A sudden movement way down the tunnel took Spike out of his reverie. Two feet away a vampire had appeared out of nowhere.

"Hey, this is my place! Are you looking for trouble?" the creature shouted and took a step towards its victim. In an instant the 'victim' dodged and pulled something out of his coat. One quick move and he was in the vampire's back.

"Well, I guess I'm looking for the trouble of killing you!" he said in a cool voice and plunged a stake into the vampire's heart.

With a soft 'zsszt' the creature disintegrated and left a big cloud of dust whirling around him. Spike shrugged and tried to clean his black duster with the palm of his healthy hand.

"I really hate dust!" he murmured and searched for his fags. After putting one between his lips he struck the lighter and inhaled the welcoming smoke. Then he continued his way through the sewers with the stake in his hand.

"If there's another bloody vampire down here he better run or he will be dust right away," he muttered. And with a smirk he added: "Well, except for myself of course!"

* * *

Wesley woke up surrounded by dim light. He found himself in an unfamiliar place, sitting at a stony ground and propped up against a cold wall. Everything seemed to be cold around him, he could see his breath. Small white steams were leaving his dry mouth.

Wesley tried to move and felt his hands tied up in his back. The same strong rope bound his feet.

He looked around. A small room with dirty stonewalls, a single window high above his head. It was dark outside, but whether it was that late or the window was dirty or blocked with something he couldn't guess. He noticed a small door to his left and tried to listen to the outside. There was no sound at all.

'Well, I seem to be alone in this…place,' he thought. 'No one knows where I am, so I will not be found here. And worse, no one will even be searching for me. Who is going to miss me?' He sighed.

Family? Several weeks would pass before his mother would be alarmed. And his father? Well…no. And as for others…Angel, Cordelia? They would simply think that he had left town to continue his rogue demon hunter thing. Perhaps they would even be relieved? He let his head sink down to his chest, closed his eyes and tried to come to terms with his dire situation.

"Face it, Wesley," eventually he raised his head again. "You are going to die."

And not only die, but also die unnoticed. Not a single soul cared about him, right?


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Spike stood outside a phone booth and searched in his pockets for a cigarette. There had to be one somewhere. He knew he had smoked too much, one after the other, all night. But, hey, it wasn't like he could die from cancer, was it?

All night he had been thinking about what had happened and what to do next. If it was true and this was December 1999, which he almost believed, then this wasn't as bad as it could have turned out.

"No," he corrected himself, "1999 is as bad as any other year before…"

His voice trailed of as he thought about what his life had been four years ago. Well, better call it his un-life.

He shrugged and forced his memory back to the present. 'No, the past,' it corrected itself.

There was no doubt about what he had to do. He knew exactly who to find, to ask for help. And that would be the hardest part of all.

'All I have to do is convince him that I'm different,' the blond vampire thought. 'If he'd only give me the time to explain. I have to convince him quickly, with details, particulars. Then he has no chance but to believe me. So, what do I know about December 1999 in LA?'

And then it hit him. What date had it been on the newspaper? The 22nd? Well, that he called fate!

He turned around immediately, opened the door and stepped into the phone booth.

He dialled and waited for someone to pick up the other end. After the third ringing a female voice answered.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless, how can we help you?"

"Cordelia?" He was shocked to hear the vivid voice of a girl he had seen lying in a deadly coma not too many days ago.

"Yeah, so. Who's there?" he heard her ask.

"Ugh…" he stuttered. She would be shocked if he'd say his name, wouldn't she?

"Gee," the girl on the other end said, "whoever you are, cat got your tongue?"

His voice hoarse he managed to say: "I need to talk to Angel."

"Well, then wait a minute, okay?"

After two or so seconds he heard a familiar voice.

"Yeah, it's Angel. Who's there?"

„Angel, don't hang up. It's... Spike."

"Spike? I…I don't…"

Angel couldn't think straight. Spike of all people called him? No way! He felt Cordelia's eyes upon him but avoided to look at her.

"Spike? Oh god, I knew that I somehow recognized the voice," she murmured with a frown.

"Angel?" The voice of his grand-childe startled him. "Hey, Peaches, you still there?"

"I am," was all he managed to say. Angel turned around and fell down onto the client's chair in front of Cordelia's desk. Then he took an unneeded breath and turned to the vampire waiting in the line.

"So, you're actually calling me?"

"Well, as you can see, I am. Ugh, not see…I mean…hear…obviously," Spike tried to collect himself. "I thought it safer to call, since you would have staked me the second I entered your office, wouldn't you?"

"Ugh, yes, probably! But why would you come to see me anyway? Is it to fix a date for another torture round? You know, I don't own the Gem of Amara anymore." Angels voice raised a little.

"What are you talking about?" Spike asked. Then he remembered. "Oh, the bloody Gem. Yes, now I remember."

"You remember, wow. Tell you what, I wasn't to forget our last meeting as quickly as you could. Though I thought I'd smashed your head hard enough to make you forget your own name!" Angel challenged.

"Oh, fuck, why didn't I stake you when I had the chance of it?" Spike snarled back.

"Spike, I've never given you the chance to stake me!" Angel said.

"So will you stop sniping and listen to me?"

"Why should I?"

"Because I know where he is!" Spike didn't notice he held his breath.

"Where he is?" Angel repeated. "What? The Gem? I told you…"

"For hell's sake, Angel. Stop babbling about the fucking Gem," Spike interrupted. "I'm talking about Wesley!"

There was a moment of utter silence and then Angel gasped: "What?"

"Wesley, remember? The tall Englishman working for you, brown hair, blue eyes, kind of bookworm and good at guns. I know where he is."

Again a long silence filled the line and then…

"What did you do to him?" Angel asked with badly repressed rage.

"What?" Spike had to think quickly. "Wait, no! I don't have him. I just…happen to know where he is."

"So you know where he is but you didn't do anything to him? Spike, do you really believe me that stupid?"

"Well, if you ask me that way, Peaches, yes I do. But that's beside the point. So you wanna know about him or not? Then will you eventually shut your big mouth and listen to me!"

Angel sighed. "Okay, I'll give you one minute. Spit it out!"

"Well, it's not that easy." Spike told him. "I can't tell you where he is or I would have nothing to force you...well, the fact is…oh fuck…I need your help…"

"Spike, tell me where he is. NOW!" Angel shouted.

"Hey, listen. He's in no immediate danger. Well, that's at least what I understood when he told me. I wasn't around the first time, so…"

"What are you talking about? You weren't around? What first time?" Angel was confused.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to explain, Captain Forehead. God, I can almost see you scowling through the phone."

"That's it. I'm done, Spike," Angels voice trembled with fury.

"Oh, bugger off, Peaches, wait! Please!" Begging crept into the usually cool voice. It made Angel hesitate. Spike begging? He really sounded…different. The last time Angel had heard him like that…so Spike-unlike….it must have been more than a hundred years ago. Angel noticed that he had zoned out on Spike who was still pleading.

"So," he interrupted his grand-childe. "is Wesley in danger or not?"

"I…I don't think so. Not yet."

"Spike, what's that supposed to mean?" Angel tried to remain calm.

"That means, you bloody poofter, if you keep distracting me with your fucking stupid questions, he will be in danger by the time I'm eventually finished with my say." Now it was Spikes turn to try and stay calm. "So, will you listen?"

"Is this some kind of a bad joke?"

"No."

Angel sighed. "Okay, I'm all ears."

"Well," Spike thought about where to start, "first of all, bookboy's gone since when? Yesterday?"

"Ahem, he didn't show up yesterday, yes. Last time we saw him was on Friday evening. He left the office late."

"And when he didn't come in yesterday, you didn't call his place? You didn't stop by?" Spike sounded reproachful.

"What am I, his mom?" Angel asked. "It was just one single day! And besides we don't know where he's staying." Angel tried to explain. He wondered where all this would lead to. A strange thought came to his mind. "Spike, you don't know where he lives, do you?" Angel asked his grand-childe.

"Yes, I do. But he won't be there anymore. As far as I got it he was abducted yesterday afternoon."

"You know his place? Why?" Angel was still pondering the fact that Spike seemed to know where Wesley lived.

"Oh, hell, Mr. Stubborn," Spike braced himself and then launched into it with a sigh. "I know his place because I know Wes. Or, I will know him in the future. That's where I'm from by the way. It's complicated. Anyway, he told me about this. About the abduction and all that and how it didn't end well and lets just say nobody wants it to end like that this time around. So how about we make a deal: you promise not to stake me, I help you rescue Wesley and then you all help me get back to the future, okay?"

"You're nuts," Angel gasped.

Spike banged his fist against the glass of the phone booth. "I know it sounds crazy. But it's true. I'm from the future. Wes did a spell and I got blasted back in time. Four years. So I'm not the same Spike you know. I've changed. I'm not the same who tortured you for the Gem of Amara." Spike didn't give Angel the opportunity to say something, he continued: "I know it's bloody hard to believe but… how else would I know about Wesley's abduction?"

"Maybe because you're the one who abducted him?" Cordelia threw in. She'd been following the conversation through the second line.

"Bloody hell," Spike growled. "I didn't take him. I…"

"I don't believe you, Spike," Angel growled back. He couldn't, right? Time travel? Sure as hell not. So the only explanation was that Spike had something to do with Wesley's abduction. If he had been abducted.

"I don't know why you're doing this, Spike," Angel continued with badly repressed rage. "But if you hurt Wesley…"

"Why would I hurt him? He's my friend! I'd never…" Spike took a deep breath to calm down. "Angel, listen, for once in your sodding life, you have to trust me."

"I don't have to do anything, Spike!"

"Oh, sod off! Fine, have it your way!" Spike had finally had enough. "I'll go and get Wes out of this mess by myself. I should have known that I couldn't count on your help. You won't move your sodding arse to save a friend from starving to death and being sacrificed in a ritual, fine. I'll do it. And if the Wesley of this time has but a split part of the smartness and loyalty I've come to know him for in my time, then I have no bloody doubt that he will believe me. He will help me!"

And with that Spike threw down the receiver and the line went dead.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Cordelia hung up the second line and returned to her own desk, where Angel was still hunched up in the client's chair, the dead end of the phone clenched in his hand.

When Cordy sat down he broke out of his reverie and hung up the receiver.

"What was that, Angel?" the vision-girl asked.

"I haven't got a single clue," the vampire replied, "but either Spike has gone totally mad or it was some mysterious trick to make a fool of me."

"You…you're not even thinking about believing him?"

Angel glared daggers at Cordelia. "No, no way. I mean…hey, a time travelling Spike? Have you ever heard of something more ridiculous?" Angel's voice had gone sharper with every single word he spoke.

"Stop going all mad on me, okay? I'm not the one pretending to be 'future-guy'!" Cordelia replied, "I don't say I believe 'Captain Peroxide', I just…well, it could be true, couldn't it? Remember your one-day as human. You know, a few weeks ago, with Buffy? You were the one who turned back time."

"What do you mean?" Angel asked confused. How did Cordelia know about that?

"Well, if it's possible for the Powers That Be to turn back your timeline, why shouldn't they do the same to Spike?"

"Ugh…well, I…that was a different case."

"What did Mr. Evil-Vamp say about Wesley trying to do a spell?" Cordelia thought out loud.

"Huh, I can't remember. I didn't get all of what he said, most of it was so nuts," Angel admitted.

"Perhaps you should have listened. But you're lucky to have an associate as clever as me. I think he said something about Wesley doing a spell. And, tell me if I'm mistaken but as former friends of Sunnydale's own witch named Willow we both know very well that sometimes spells do go wrong."

"Yeah, but…" Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"So, let's try for one second to forget that it was Spike who called. Admit it, if it had been anyone else on the phone it would have taken you less than a blink to go save Wesley. You wouldn't have doubted for a second! Just because it's Spike…" Cordelia's voice trailed off and she watched Angel closely.

The vampire thought about it and had to admit she was right. If it had been any other person…or a person at all…but Spike?

"Angel," Cordelia urged, "if it's true and Wesley was kidnapped for who knows what reason, then we need to rescue him."

"Well, if it's true what Spike said, then Wesley is in no immediate danger. He said something about a ritual and Wesley nearly starving, but no grave danger."

"So," Cordy retorted, "if you think being sacrificed for some odd demon ritual or starving to death are no immediate dangers, well, lucky you!

Angel sighed. "Okay, you're right, we should go and find Wesley. But we have no hint, no clue…and Spike won't likely call again, will he?"

* * *

 

Spike paced through the tunnel, cursing Angel and his stubbornness, and stopped every now and then to crash his unscorched fist into the stonewalls. He didn't know why he was so angry. He should have known that Angel wouldn't believe him. So why had he wanted Angel's help in the first place? It's not as if he needed Angel to get back to his time. Wesley was the one he needed. Wes had been the one to cast the spell and anyway, Wes was the one with the knowledge about magic and stuff, not Angel. Wes would know how to send him back. He'd figure it out, he was smart.

'But he's not the same person you know in your time,' a tiny voice inside Spike's head piped up. 'You know what he told you about these early years. You know what he was like then. That's why you went to Angel for help. Because you know that Wesley isn't…'

"Shut up!" Spike silenced his own unhelpful mind with a growl. He didn't want to think about what he knew of Wesley's past. The few things Wesley had let slip didn't sound so bad, did they?

'Oh, who are you trying to kid here, you know it was bad!'

Although Wes hardly ever spoke about any of his feelings, Spike knew that he had been unhappy back then. The time before Wesley had started working for Angel he had been a different person. Insecure and very, very lonely. How must he feel now, being all alone in the cellar with no hope of ever being rescued…

"It's all Angels fault! The stupid git. He won't get away with this!"

Spike stopped both swearing and running when he reached the trapdoor he had been heading for. The one that led to the cellar of Wesley's apartment house, where he hoped to find the ex-watcher.

Spike remembered Wesley telling him about his abduction only two weeks ago. 'The worst Christmas ever' he'd called it, and then he'd laughed at how ridiculous the whole circumstances had been.

Wesley had been a prisoner in his own home, or better beneath it, and Angel and Cordelia hadn't been able to find him because they hadn't known the address. Ridiculous, really!

'Well, I suppose bookboy won't see the fun in it right now,' Spike thought when he opened the trapdoor and entered the deserted cellar.

All he could see beside the stairs was a small wooden door ten feet away. It obviously led to Wesley's hiding place. Spike tried to listen whether the demon could be heard anywhere, but there was nothing. The creature must have gone out to… whatever.

Spike took in an unneeded breath. 'I guess Wes won't be happy to see me, since he doesn't know me yet. Only through his books. Here he comes, William the Bloody.' He let out a sigh. 'So, let's go forward to rescue the watcher. He will probably try to stake me the second I release his chains.'

* * *

 

Wesley had no idea how long he had been waiting for something to happen. He couldn't manage to glimpse at his watch, as much as he tried to crane his neck.

'I must have been here for several hours at least,' he thought, 'according to the rumbling of my stomach.' He thought about the last thing he had eaten (a toast at half past eight this morning, or had it been yesterday?) when a sudden noise outside his prison startled him. No doubt, something's coming.

Wesley heard someone outside lift the bolt of the door. Then the heavy wood slid open.

Bleached blond hair poked through, followed by a pale face and a slim body dressed in a long leather coat.

The sight of the man rang a bell somewhere in Wesley's watcher-memory, but he couldn't remember why. He was sure he'd never met this fellow before, yet he seemed familiar in a strange way.

The man hesitated in the doorway and stared down at Wesley for several seconds. Then he broke his gaze and said in a hoarse voice:

"Ugh, you're okay?"

'English?' Wesley thought he had heard a slight spot of the familiar accent in the voice. But he wasn't sure. Maybe if the man spoke a few more words…

Wesley became aware that he hadn't answered. He nodded when another sound startled him coming from the outside. Heavy footsteps accompanied by a deep groan. The demon returned eventually.

"Oh, bugger!" the unknown fellow swore. He grabbed a crowbar from the dusty ground and disappeared through the door towards the noise.

Wesley gasped in shock. What was he doing? Did he believe he could defeat the demon all on his own?

Wesley struggled and tried to free himself from the chains, but the rope wouldn't give. He could do nothing but listen to the sounds of battle from outside. Rumbling and groaning filled the air, followed by several loud smashes.

Suddenly everything went silent and then someone let out a triumphant shout.

Two seconds later the blond man returned to where Wesley was waiting anxiously.

"Bloody hell," he grinned, "that was some way to let off steam. I bloody well needed that!"

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat, lighted one and sat down on the ground. "So I guess my turning up was pretty damn on time, wasn't it?"

Wesley couldn't help but gawk at Spike open-mouthed. "Is…is the creature dead?" he managed to ask.

But Spike didn't listen. When he had reached Wesley all he could do was stare incredulously. He couldn't believe his eyes. From further away Wesley had looked all right, not that different at all. Okay, he did wear glasses, something Spike had never seen before. But the rest had seemed to be the very same Wesley. His hair was mussed and the stubble let his face appear as closed and unpredictable as ever.

But then Spike had approached and he had caught the look in Wesley's eyes. And now he did look very different. His eyes appeared bright and innocent…so vulnerable! There seemed to be much more missing than the four years of age. Determination, ruthlessness…and suffered pain!

"Ahm…excuse me, since I don't know you, I have to ask: did you come here to rescue me? If that were the case, would you mind releasing my chains?" Wesley asked shyly.

"Oh, sorry pet, but you kind of shocked me with the… never mind," Spike quickly changed the subject. "So, when you say that you don't know me. Do you mean that we've never met before, which is technically true, or that you don't know who I am? If it's the latter, then I have to admit that the sodding Watcher's Council sacked you for right!"

"What…how?" Now it was Wesley's time to be flabbergasted. He simply sat there waiting for an explanation.

"You know what, mate? I'll release your arms and then I'll tell you who I am and what I want from you, okay?" Spike smirked, apparently enjoying his advantage.

'As if I had any choice,' Wesley thought but nodded.

Reaching for a small pocket knife Spike rose and leaned towards Wesley, invading his personal space. When the blonde began cutting the rope in his back Wesley turned his head to get a closer look on his saviour. Cheekbones to die for, bright shining blue eyes and…no breath.

Wesley jerked back as if he had been burned. He struggled and berated himself for being so bloody stupid. 'I thought I should be able to recognize a vampire if he…wait! What is he doing, why isn't he killing me?'

"Bloody hell, Wes. Stop that. I nearly cut your veins," Spike reproached and shot Wesley a stern look.

Wesley couldn't stop a snort while thinking: 'I suppose you'd have liked that.' Then he tried to gain back his senses. No faults right now, otherwise…

"So you've figured out I'm a vampire, congratulations!" Spike mocked with a smirk and sat back on the floor. Then he kept staring at Wesley with his head cocked to one side.

Wesley felt the rope at his arms going limp. He brought his hands forward and started rubbing his wrists where the rope had cut the skin. He wondered what a vampire could want from him other than his blood, when Spike began to talk.

"You know, you look like a stupid librarian with your glasses! Not that I think all librarians are stupid, mind you. I think Fred worked part time in a library before she met Angel and she's as smart as it gets. Also, Giles isn't that bad either."

"Giles?" Wesley frowned. "You know Mr. Giles?"

"Oh, Rupert and I go way back," Spike smirked. "I even lived with him for a while."

"I beg your pardon?" Wesley couldn't believe what he was hearing. When had Mr. Giles been living with a vampire? And why for God's sake? Or…

"Was that, ugh… was that before you were turned into a vampire?" That could be the only explanation, right?

"What?" Spike exclaimed, sounding outraged for some reason Wesley couldn't fathom. "Of course not! Who do you think I am? Some college mate of Giles' that got turned mere three decades ago? Do I look like a fledgling to you?"

"No, no!" Wesley backed away until his back was pressed into the wall. "I… sorry, I didn't… that is…"

"You really got no idea who I am, do you, Wes?" Spike shook his head and Wesley mirrored his gesture silently. He didn't know who this vampire was but apparently the vampire knew him. He'd called him by name, hadn't he?

Spike flashed Wesley a smug smirk. "Well, then I guess I should introduce myself properly." He held out his hand and glared menacingly at Wesley until the ex-watcher took it, his own hand shaking slightly.

"Nice to meet you, Wesley. The name's Spike, but I think you know me better as…"

"William the Bloody," Wesley gasped, eyes wide in fear.

"The very same!" It sounded oddly proud.

"Oh!" Wesley's insides were about to turn round. Spike! William the Bloody, as he was called in the Watcher's Diaries. Of all the dangerous creatures that roamed the earth he had to run into the open arms of the most vicious vampire the world had ever seen besides Angelus.

Spike had watched Wesley closely. "Are you frightened, pet?" he asked.

Wesley felt so sick he couldn't answer. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth he would start vomiting. So all he did was nod slightly. When he saw it Spike let out a short chuckle.

"Ha, I don't believe it. Mr. 'I'm-so-cool-I-shot-my-own-dad' is scared to death of his own guinea pig!"

"What do you mean? You have certainly never been my guinea pig! I've never met you in my life!"

"Well, that's true," Spike answered. "But you will."

Now Wesley was totally confused. Spike recognized the expression on Wesley's face and added: "And now lean back and listen to what I tried to explain to Angel an hour ago, will you?"

And with that Spike stood up and started pacing around the cellar. He thought about where to start. If he didn't want to scare Wesley more than he already had, he'd have to choose his words carefully. He had realized quickly that this Wesley of 1999 had almost nothing in common with the cool and unpredictable man he would become. The man Spike knew in his time seemed to be afraid of nothing. 'Or nothing simply affects him anymore,' Spike suddenly thought.

"Ugh, sorry to disturb your thoughts," Wesley broke the silence, "but is there an explanation coming soon? Otherwise I do not want to bother you any longer, I could simply leave you…"

One look into the piercing blue of Spike's eyes silenced Wesley at once. Spike took out another fag and started talking eventually.

"Well, I know what I'm gonna tell you now will sound bloody ridiculous to you, but you have to believe me, okay?


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Cordelia shot up in bed and gasped for breath. What a nightmare! She had dreamt to be on a roof high above LA and Willow had tried…

"Willow!" Cordelia shouted at once. She turned the night light on and threw a quick look at her watch. Half past two, but that didn't matter, did it? It was an emergency!

The girl reached for the phone and dialled the number by heart.

While waiting for the witch to pick up Cordy berated herself and Angel for being so stupid. It was so very simple! Why didn't they think of it? The only way to prove what Spike had been saying…

"Willow? It's me, Cordelia!…Sorry to wake you, but it's kind of urgent…What? No, Angel's fine… yeah… me, too. Look, I need to know… Do you know if Spike's still in town? I know, it's… what? Where?… He's… no, you're kidding! At Giles'?… I don't… what's it called? The Initiative?… Yes, I got it!… Well, then… he must have told the truth!… Sorry, Will… No, nothing serious I suppose. We'll be able to handle it!… Yes, we'll call Giles tomorrow to get details… Thanks, Willow, you've been a big help!… Okay, sleep well. Yes, and say hello to the gang, will you?… Thanks, bye!"

Cordelia hung up the phone with a frown. If Spike was still in Sunnydale, and chained to Giles' bathtub of all places… then who had been the one on the phone yesterday?

* * *

 

"Wesley?"

Spike watched his friend-to-be closely after finishing his story. Wesley sat silently staring at a point somewhere over Spike's head. He hadn't said a single word for more than three minutes. Nor had he shown any sign of understanding, let alone believing one word Spike had told him.

Spike had started talking about the spell and about the time travelling but he had spared the detail that it had been Wesley performing the spell.

He had admitted to the strange fact that they both had become some kind of friends but he hadn't dared to mention the tiny fact that they shared a home since Wesley had invited him after being back from death and being corporeal again. He thought it would be too much for the ex-watcher to process.

In his whole explanation Spike had also spared the part of him having gained back his soul. He didn't want to reveal too much about the future for he had no idea how it would change everything.

After a while Spike tried again:

"Pet? You okay?"

And eventually he got a reaction, but one he hadn't intended.

Wesley closed his eyes, leaned back to the wall and…laughed. He laughed so hard he had to take off his glasses and wipe away the tears. 'I simply have a nervous breakdown. That's it.' He thought. 'There is nobody around here, nobody travelled through time and there is definitely no Spike sitting next to me!'

A hard slap in the face told him otherwise.

Wesley's eyes darted open. He was looking straight into the vampire's face.

"Oh mother of God," he managed to whisper, then he passed out.

* * *

 

"Angel?" Cordy shouted when she entered the office the next morning. "Angel, I have news!"

The vampire's head poked around the corner of his office.

"Me, too!"

"Oh!" the girl hesitated just briefly, "well, mine are more important. Let me tell you, we've been real big dumbasses, both of us."

"Great news, Cordy!" Angel mocked.

"No, wait! Last night I had a nightmare about Willow. And when I woke up I called her immediately!" Cordelia looked at Angel expectantly.

"To tell her not to haunt you in your dreams again?" he asked.

"No, to ask her whether Spike is still in Sunnydale!"

Angel shot her an admirable glance. "And?"

"Well, he is! And better, he is chained up to Giles' bathtub!" One of her famous brilliant smiles spread out over her face. Angel on the other hand looked really dumbfounded.

"He, what? Giles' bathtub? But why?"

"Well, you're not gonna believe this. Spike has become a guinea pig of the government! He was caught by a group called 'The Initiative', who put a chip into his head."

"A chip?" Angel repeated.

"Yes, some weird techno-thing that will cause a terrible headache whenever he tries to attack humans."

Angel stuttered: "He can't attack humans?"

"No!"

"That means he can't…feed?"

"No, Giles is giving him pig's blood every now and then. Well, only if Spike plays nice, of course."

"But…but when did this happen?" Angel asked.

"Gee, I don't know! Some weeks ago, I suppose. Why?"

"Well, Spike wasn't at Giles' on Thanksgiving. I went there, remember? I even went into the bathroom once. I didn't see him there!" Angel said.

"You went into the bathroom?" Cordelia asked bewildered. "Why? I thought vampires had no need to…"

"I was hiding from Buffy!" Angel threw a stern look at the vision girl. "And besides, don't you think Giles would have mentioned it if Spike would have been locked up there somewhere?"

Cordelia thought about it and then said: "Well, perhaps Spike has been captured some time after Thanksgiving? Who knows?"

"You should!" Angel rushed. "You talked to Willow! You should have asked!"

"Hey, stop yelling at me, okay?" Cordelia walked up to the vampire and poked a finger to his chest. "You should be glad I had this brilliant idea of calling Willow. You want details, call Giles."

Angel looked down at his feet. "You're right, I'm sorry. I probably will call Giles later. But for now…if it's true and Spike's in Sunnydale…." His voice trailed of.

"Well, then we happen to have another Spike in LA. And that means….he told the truth about his journey which means Wesley's really been abducted and we have to rescue him, right?"

"Right," Angel confirmed, "and now I guess is the right time for me to reveal my news. I know where Wesley lives."

"What? How did you…?" Cordelia was astonished.

"Well, I…someone owed me a favour," Angel said. "Someone who works for an estate manager."

"Oh! Handy much?" Cordelia smiled, "So he was all friendly and looked into his files and…hello, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, there you are?"

"Ugh, well…yeah?" Angel looked away quickly.

"Aha! You went all…grrrghh," she mimed a vamp out to Angel, "and threatened him, right?"

"Cordelia," Angel sighed, "does it matter? We have Wesley's address, so let's go!"

"Sometimes I love working for a vampire!" Cordy said and followed Angel out of the office.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

When Wesley awoke, he didn't see the dirty ceiling of his former prison above his head. He looked straight up to the one in his own apartment.

"Oh God, what a nightmare!" he yawned and reached to the bedside table for his glasses. Only not to find them.

"Where…" he tried to remember where he might have left them when he suddenly noticed that he was lying on the bed fully dressed. His pants looked dirty and there were several cuts and gashes in his shirt. His wrists were itching and when he looked down at them Wesley could see slight scratches where the rope had cut his skin.

"The rope!" Wesley gasped. 'So it wasn't a nightmare, it was real!'

The beeping sound of the microwave took Wesley out of his thoughts. Wait, the microwave? Wesley scrambled off his bed and grabbed one of the heavy books on his nightstand. Then he tiptoed through the living room towards the kitchen. He prepared himself to hit whatever was moving inside and pushed the door open. But the offered sight let Wesley freeze in midair.

Spike was leaning against the counter sipping from a mug in his hand. But although he looked rather stunning dressed in black from tip to toe, that was not what got Wesley stunned. The table in front of Spike was set with toast, butter, jam and even bacon. There was also a mug waiting to be filled with coffee from the machine on the counter.

"Hi, Wes," the vampire greeted casually, "I thought you might be hungry by now. So I…" he gestured towards the table.

Wesley stood in the doorway, unable to move. He looked at Spike, down at the table and back to the vampire. Finally he managed to whisper: "You…you made breakfast?"

"Yep."

"But… where did you get… I mean, I didn't have anything in," Wesley knew for sure that his fridge had been empty. For several days.

"I know," Spike scowled. "Not even Weetabix."

"So…"

"I popped down to the shop," Spike shrugged. Seeing Wesley's stunned expression he added with a smirk: "Close your mouth, Wes. Or you'll catch flies." As if him making breakfast was worth such a fuss. He had made breakfast for Dawn several times back in the summer Buffy had been… but that hadn't happened yet, Spike reminded himself. And also did Wesley know nothing about that at all.

Spike had trouble reminding himself of the differences between this Wesley and the man he knew in his time. They did look the same but…they weren't. He had not to forget that.

He cleared his throat and said to the still dumbfounded Wes leaning in the doorframe:

"Breakfast won't run away. So why don't you take a shower and put on some fresh clothes? And I suppose those cuts in your face need some cleaning, too."

Wesley's hand went immediately towards a small gash on his forehead and he flinched at the dried blood he found there.

"Believe me, you'll live!" Spike smiled.

"Will I?" Wesley couldn't stop the question from coming out. He seriously doubted that he would survive long with William the Bloody in his apartment.

Spike didn't seem to be offended by the question. He simply cocked an eyebrow and then shoved the ex-watcher out of the kitchen.

"Go," he ordered, "take a shower!"

Wesley nodded mutely and walked back into his room to grab some fresh clothes. What else was there to do than to obey the order of a brutal killer who had just saved your life?

While he was in the shower Wesley thought briefly about sneaking out of his apartment and fleeing to Angel's office. Escaping Spike. Each and every muscle in his body seemed to scream: "Run away!"

But on second thought…no.

On second thought a curiosity had taken hold of him that was way bigger than the fear. What did the vampire want from him? Why had he saved him?

Well, of course Wesley was still afraid of Spike. This was William the Bloody, for god's sake, who was currently occupying his kitchen!

But although it had only been a short time he had known 'The Slayer of Slayers', Wesley was sure that there was something about the vampire… something different, something off! And that had woken his interest. He couldn't simply run away!

He had been a watcher for god's sake. He had to be curious! He wanted to know more about Spike, he wanted to understand him!

That's why he had to stay. And by the way, if Spike had intended to kill him Wesley would be dead by now, wouldn't he?

With these thoughts running through his mind the ex-watcher stepped out of the shower and started to take care of his bruised and stubbly face before he got dressed.

When he returned to the kitchen Spike was sitting at the table still sipping from a mug. Wesley entered and all Spike could do was stare incredulously at the complete change he saw.

"Bloody hell!" the vampire exclaimed.

'Who the hell is that? And where is the Wes I know?' he thought. He let his eyes travel up and down the complete stranger in front of him.

Spike had never seen Wesley's hair neatly kempt like this. He had never seen the man's face shaved clean but always stubbly. This on top of the neat glasses and the light colours of the pants and button-down shirt Wes was wearing shook Spike to his core. 'Now this appearance matches the innocent eyes!' Spike thought as he tried to keep himself from bursting into…

Into what? Laughter? Tears? Spike wasn't sure. Okay, Wesley did look ridiculous. But the meaning behind this complete change, not only in his looks but also in his personality, left the laughter stuck in Spike's throat. It wasn't funny, not at all. It was…frightening.

The vampire tried to break out of his stupor. Now was not the time to think about this. There were more important things right now. Breakfast for example. Wesley looked as if he could use it.

"Sit down!" Spike ordered. "Eat!"

Wesley broke out of a reverie as well. Spike's pressing tune made his fear return and it quickly got the upper hand of his curiosity. But following orders was what Wesley was good at after all. So he sat down and picked up a toast. The smell of the still warm bread made him realize how starved he was. So he put away his panic and started eating. If he was going to die soon, and that thought suddenly crept forcefully back into his mind, then he could just as well die filled.

But Spike didn't intend to kill him, did he? Why should he take the trouble of rescuing him, taking him back home and preparing breakfast if he could have finished him off any minute? Again the question of Spike's motives ran through Wesley's mind. As well as another strange thought.

Before he could stop himself he asked: "How did I get here?"

Spike glanced over the brim of his mug (what was he sipping by the way?) into Wesley's anxious face and cocked an eyebrow.

"So, you've finally decided to start asking questions? Okay then, let's talk. You wanna know how you got here? Well, after you pooped out down in the cellar I dragged your ass upstairs. Simple as that!"

"How did you know where I live?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Well, as I already told you yesterday, we're friends, I know you and therefore I know your home!"

"But…"

"And before you ask, I have no idea how I was able to enter. I s'pose it's because you've invited me in already. No...you will invite me in…oh, sod of! This bloody time-mixing-crap really sucks!"

"Oh, of course! A vampire must be invited, otherwise he cannot enter a human home." Wesley sounded as if he was reciting one of his books. "So, if one's invited into a home and he travels back in time, is he supposed to be able to enter? Perhaps he might, although his past-self may not be, simply because the alter-ego of the future is a different person than his past-self, right?" He had forgotten about his fear, about Spike being a dangerous creature of the night.

"Wait, it strikes me as if I read something close to this topic somewhere," Wesley reminded himself.

He jumped up and paced to his desk, hunger forgotten. He started looking for a special volume of one of his books. Wesley's mind was so engaged in formulating a theory that he didn't notice Spike following him with a genuine smile. He sat down on the sofa and watched Wesley doing his research.

'This is my Wesley all over,' he thought. 'Hell, my Wesley? No, no, he's not mine, not at all!' Spike was shocked about the direction his thoughts had taken. 'I'm just glad to see something familiar in this entire shit, especially in him. Got it? Good!' he advised himself.

Meanwhile Wesley had found what he was looking for. He took the book to where Spike sat, bent over and showed him a special passage.

"Here, look," he said enthusiastically. Spike glanced briefly at the book and then back at Wesley, whose face was only inches away from his own. Suddenly Wesley seemed to notice the closeness, too. One second he held Spike's gaze, then he jerked away in trembling fear.

"Oh bugger off, Wesley!" Spike shouted, "get the hell over it! I'm a vampire, yes, but I won't hurt you! Promise!"

"I…I'm sorry, Sp-Spike!" Wesley tried to suppress his panic, without much effort.

"Tell me, do you get that fucking paranoid when Angel sneaks up on you?" Spike wanted to know.

"I am not paranoid!"

"Oh sod off. Yes, you are! I can't even believe you're the same Wes I know. Look at you, all bright and perky. Look at your huge, innocent eyes. They reveal your heart, your soul, everything. I can see all the weakness and fear that's inside of you. You're scared of everything.

And then there's the Wes I know. The fighter, a fucking deadly fighter with eyes both burning like fire and cold as ice. Eyes that show nothing but courage and determination. Damn, Wes, you even get me scared to death with one burning glance!" Spike glared up to Wesley who stood there in frozen awe.

Unable to hide his concern Spike added in a softer voice: "I can't imagine what that man must have gone through, what you'll have to go through, to get such a change."

Wesley's face still showed nothing but alarm. Spike sighed and asked: "Did I give you any reason to think I will harm you? Did I threaten you? Did I bloody hurt you?"

Wesley shook his head.

"Then why are you so fucking afraid? Why can't you just relax?"

"Well, you are a vampire!" Wesley managed to say.

Spike let out an unneeded breath. "Are you that scared of Angel? Don't you trust him either?"

Wesley had to think about it. "I don't know…but I am willing to trust him."

"Because of his soul?" Spike asked sharply.

"I…yes, I must admit, the soul is playing a big part in it."

"Right, the sodding soul." One second Spike was tempted to reveal he had a soul, too. But he suppressed the urge and went on asking:

"Do you think there is a difference between a vampire who was cursed with a soul and therefore didn't have any choice but to do good, and a vampire who decided on his own to stop being evil?"

Wesley looked up. "I don't think that it's possible for a vampire, a completely evil being, to choose a life on the good side!"

"Yes, it is," Spike said quietly.

"But why…" Wesley wondered. And then it hit him, it all fell into place. That something that was off with Spike…he had a soul! Wesley was so astonished by this revelation that he nearly missed Spike's next words.

"Because of love." His voice barely audible Spike looked down at his hands.

"You're not capable of love, Spike," a sharp voice broke through from the threshold.

Both the vampire and the human turned to see Angel standing in the broken apartment door.

"Wesley, invite me in, will you?" he urged.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"Angel?" Wesley asked astonished.

"Oh, bugger," Spike said and rose from the sofa.

"Wesley, please!" Angel pled.

"Wesley, are you okay?"

Cordelia appeared behind the vampire, walked around him and entered the apartment. She looked Wesley over as if in search for serious injuries and was pleased to see him in a kind of healthy state. Then she grabbed a stake from her bag, glanced over to Spike and said: "Just in case…"

Spike's lips quirked as he stated: "Oh, now I'm scared to death. No, wait! I am already…dead I mean!"

Angel was still leaning against the invisible barrier in the doorway. "Wesley, for heaven's sake, will you invite me in?"

It seemed that Wesley had to come back from very far. He shook his head clear and finally said: "Of course, come in Angel!"

Moving at speeds the human eye could barely track Angel got in and had the other vampire back up against a wall. Spike let out an angry growl and tried to free himself from Angel's grip. But the elder vampire held him so firmly pinned to the wall he could hardly struggle.

"And now, Spike," Angel hissed, "tell me what this whole love-and-soul-crap is supposed to mean. What are you up to?"

"Get the hell off me!" the younger vamp spat, "Move or I'll…!"

"You'll what?" Angel's smile was cruel.

Spike struggled and managed to free one hand. Swearing he aimed for Angel's throat and finally got hold of it. But a searing pain reminded him that it had been this hand, his left, that he had held into the sunlight. Despite vampire healing powers it was still scorched.

Suddenly Angel slammed a well placed fist against Spike's chin. The blond staggered sideways in pain and fell to the ground with a groan. In a split second Angel was above him, holding him down with his greater weight.

But when he was about to send a rain of blows at Spike's face, his arm was blocked by the sudden appearance of a strong grip around it.

"Stop that!"

Angel looked up into Wesley's determined face.

One second he considered to knock Wesley off his feet and continue to fight the crap out of Spike, but something in Wesley's eyes made him hesitate.

"Let him go, Angel," Wesley ordered.

"Wesley," Angel tried, "he's a vampire!"

"I know that he is. Just as you are."

"He's nothing like me. Nothing!" Angel spat but stood up and let Spike go.

"Perhaps you are right. But he saved me from a demon. I cannot let you fight someone who just saved my life!" Wesley shot back. And acting on a spur of the moment he added:

"And he made breakfast for me!"

Three pairs of eyes darted towards Wesley, two of them in shocking disbelieve, the other one, from Spike, in sheer embarrassment.

"What?"

"Thanks, you dork. Now my reputation as the Big Bad is completely ruined!" Spike wiped away the blood coming from the corner of his mouth and rose from the ground.

Cordelia said nothing but broke out into hilarious laughter. Wesley joined her soon and even Spike managed to let a sheepish grin spread across his face. The only one who didn't laugh at Wesley's comment was Angel. His face went from Wesley to the kitchen table, then towards Spike and back at Wesley.

"Okay, why am I the only one who can't see the fun in it?" he growled.

"Because it's always been your job to spoil everyone's fun, isn't it?" Spike challenged.

Angel glared daggers at him but Spike stepped backwards and held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, just kidding! Sorry!"

"Sorry?" Angel frowned, "you apologizing?" He watched Spike closely. "Now I'm convinced. You can't be Spike! Spike would never apologize to anyone, let alone me!"

"People change, don't they?" Wesley threw in.

"We're not people, Wesley," Angel told the ex-watcher calmly, "we're vampires. Vampires don't change!"

"You did!" was coming from Cordelia.

"That was different. I got cursed. I changed because I got a soul!"

"Spike has a soul, too." Wesley said quietly.

"What? He's got a soul, too?" Cordelia demanded, "Is there a sale somewhere?"

Angel's eyes darted up incredulously. "Wesley, you mustn't believe what he said earlier. You mustn't trust him. You don't know him. You don't know him like I do!"

Spike's eyes were fixed on Wesley. "How did you know?"

"I can see it!" Wesley replied towards Spike.

Angel walked over to Wesley and grabbed his arm. He turned the human around and faced him sternly. "Wesley, believe me. You don't know him!"

"Angel, don't you see it?" Wesley shouted and pulled back, "Look at him. Look into his eyes and tell me you cannot see it! It's there!"

Angel walked over to the other vampire and looked straight into the blue depth of his eyes. Spike was tempted to back away but then he forced himself to stay and hold his grandsire's gaze. Cordelia and Wesley watched the vampires in silence.

After what seemed to be a lifetime Angel raised a hand as if to touch Spike's cheek. Spike jerked away and growled:

"I may have a soul now but I'm still me. And I don't like to be played with, you should know that, Peaches!"

"You're right. I should know that." Angel seemed to be really taken aback. He went to the couch and fell onto it. Then he asked quietly: "How?"

"Does it matter?" Spike asked uncomfortably. Something told him that it would be no good to reveal too much of the future, no matter who's.

And besides, telling Angel that he fought for his soul because of his love for Buffy didn't seem to be the right thing to do anyway.

"Well, no. But you don't have to be afraid of me copying you. In case you forgot: I already have a soul! I was the first vampire with a soul!" Angel sounded angry.

"Yeah, how could I ever forget that?" Spike's voice turned harsh as well.

Wesley watched both vampires and made a mental note to himself: 'Don't dwell on the 'soul' ever again. They both seem to have issues on that topic.'

"Okay," he said loud, "can we perhaps return to the origin?" Three pairs of eyes watched him as he started pacing through the living room. "So now we know Spike has a soul. But what we don't know is whether or not he told the truth about his journey," he started pulling the things off his fingers, "and if it's true why he went back in time, why he landed in our time, and most importantly, what he wants. Right so far?"

"It is true what he said," Cordelia answered for Spike, who looked at her astonished. "We know that he's not the Spike who came here a few weeks ago. Angel?" She waited for the vampire to confirm.

"Yeah, well," Angel looked at Wesley, "it seems that the 'real Spike' is still in Sunnydale. Cordy called Willow tonight." Angel stood up from the couch and turned towards the other vampire.

"Okay, Spike!" He glared straight into the younger vamps blue eyes, "I think now's the time for you to prove you're right. Try tell me something that convinces me. Perhaps something about 'The Initiative'?"

"The Initiative?" Spike wondered.

"Or something about Giles' bathtub?" Cordelia asked in mocking tone.

Spike cocked an eyebrow at the girl and started pacing through the room. He thought for a moment before he answered.

"Okay, so you already know about me being captured by soldier guys and also 'bout the sodding chip inside my head. What else do you know?" He looked around and stopped at Wesley's confused face.

"What?"

"Ahem, I'm sorry," the ex-watcher stuttered, "but I am afraid you lost me in the middle. Somewhere around the soldiers in Giles' bathtub."

Spike laughed out loud. "Bloody hell, picture that! Well, okay, I see. Shall I start at the beginning then?"

"That would be much appreciated!" Wesley answered and Angel nodded mutely.

"Okay!" Spike took a deep breath and continued pacing. "Well, a few weeks ago, seen from this day, I returned to Sunnydale after my little visit here in LA. Remember my visit, Peaches, do you?"

Angel growled but said nothing. Spike smirked and went on: "Anyway, back in Sunnyhell these bloody commando guys caught me, brought me into their lab and put a chip into my brain to stop me from attacking humans. But I escaped and, yeah…the chip worked bloody well. I couldn't attack anyone, so I couldn't feed. And I had to hide from the commandos all the time and had nowhere to go …so finally at Thanksgiving I went to the watcher for help."

"You went to Mr. Giles?" Wesley asked confused.

Spike nodded.

"And he put you into his bathtub?"

"Will you stop with the sodding bathtub already?" Spike threw up his hands. "That was only for a day or two! But after that…"

"Wait," Angel asked suddenly. "Did you say Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah," Spike frowned. "I remember, everyone came for this stupid Thanksgiving dinner the Slayer had prepared all day, and then those vengeance Indians attacked and by the end of it I felt like a bloody pincushion …wait!"

Spike looked sharply at his grandsire, "You were there, weren't you? You came to help Buffy but you were too chicken to show yourself… the whelp blabbed it over the table…"

"But I didn't see you there, Spike." Angel wondered if he could have overlooked him. Very unlikely, with his conspicuous blond hair. "I fought outside and then I looked through the window. Buffy was there, Giles, Willow, Xander and his girlfriend…you were nowhere to be seen!"

"Perhaps you didn't see me because when the Indians attacked I toppled over being still tied to the sodding chair. So I was on the ground with a bunch of arrows poking out of my body and nobody seemed to give a shit!"

Spike noticed Angel looking still suspicious. "Oh bloody hell, I was there!" he yelled. "I could describe everything to you; I could even tell you what clothes Buffy wore that day!"

"Buffy's clothes?" Cordelia was all ears, "Come on, let's hear!"

Angel gave her a look and shook his head. Then he turned back to his grandchilde and sighed: "I don't remember Buffy's clothes but I do remember enough to believe you. You could have been there."

"Oh, thanks for the gratitude! Bloody hell, Peaches! You don't remember what the woman you pretend to love looked like when you saw her a few weeks ago? To me this day has been more than four years in the past and I still remember every detail. And I didn't even love her then!"

Angel spun round at that comment. "But you love her now, is that what you're saying, Spike?" he asked angry.

"I…" Spike couldn't hold his grandsire's angry stare, "it's none of your business!"

"You tell me you have it in for my girl and it's none of my business?"

"Oh, come on, you know that she was never your girl!" Spike stated, "No matter how much you love her, no matter how close you hold her…she never belongs to you…she'll never…to anyone." Spike's voice trailed off and he looked up to meet Angel's eyes. "You know that, Peaches, and I know it, too!"

Both vampires stared at each other for a second in silence. Then Spike took an unneeded breath and turned to Wesley and Cordelia, who had been anxiously listening to the jealous talk of the two vampires.

"So, anyway," he said looking at Wesley, "I stayed at Giles' for a while and then I stayed at the whelp's sodding dank basement, which made me even more depressed and pathetic than I already was, and then I found out that I was able to hurt demons though I couldn't hurt humans."

"Because of that chip you have inside your head?" Wesley tried to follow Spike's explanations but it was all very confusing. And a little unbelievable, too.

"Had, past tense!" Spike said.

"Had?" Wesley looked frightened. "So you don't have the chip anymore?"

"Nope, got rid of it 'bout some time ago."

"You got rid of it? How?" Angel wanted to know.

"It was never meant to last long in the first place. And then… it went mad and…Buffy…" Spike swallowed at mentioning her name, "well, she decided to let them remove it." His voice was barely audible.

"Why?" Angel asked. At the same time Wesley wondered: "Why would she do such a stupid thing? Unleash a brutal killer to…" he caught sight of Spike's offended glance and left the sentence unfinished.

Spike replied: "Why? She knew about the soul, and despite everything I did to her," he flinched at a certain memory, "she knew she could trust me…I guess she even believed herself when she said she loved me."

"Shut up, Spike! She doesn't love you!" Angel spat. "Buffy could never love something like you!"

"And why not?" Spike challenged.

"She could never love you because she's smarter than that," Angel replied calmly. "Did you really believe that having a soul and pretending to fight demons and doing good would make her forget what you are, Spike? She could never do that, she could never see anything else in you than what you are: a cheap and pathetic… copy of me!"

For a few seconds Spike didn't know what to say. He simply stood there, staring incredulously at his grandsire, this conceited, fucking arrogant pain in the ass!

"Oh, sod off, Angel!" Spike yelled. "Me? Copying you? Oh bloody hell! You are so…there's no strong enough word for your bloody arrogance. Not everything revolves around you, believe me! And I'm not trying to be like you! There's nothing I want less! In fact, I would rather stake myself than be like you!"

He underlined his words with smashing his scorched fist forcefully into the nearest wall. Then his voice turned dangerously quiet and he continued:

"And just for the record: we could not be more different. You revelled in being evil till you got cursed. Then it took you more than a century to cope with your new life, with having a soul, being Angel and no longer Angelus! You know what? That's crap! Angel/Angelus, it's all the same and you know it! All those years you tried to pretend that they are two different people. Angel good, Angelus evil. Nonsense. It took me two seconds with my soul to notice I'm just the same. I'm still Spike, I didn't turn back into poncy William! Thank God I didn't cause he's…well…anyway, what I meant is: They're one and the same! Angel and Angelus, good and evil, it all belongs together. Both are a part of you, and you're simply too bloody chicken to admit it!" Spike had started pacing through the room again and now stopped in front of Angel.

"You are afraid of your own darkness, Angelus. And as long as you can't admit that, you can't be free, can't be yourself."

Spike took a deep breath and looked up. "And now I forgot what I was about to say!" he admitted.

"You were trying to convince us that you and Angel are different although you both happen to be vampires with a soul who are in love with Buffy!" Cordelia helped him out.

"Oh, yeah. Right!" Spike nodded at the girl. "Buffy: One moment of true happiness and you go all: 'Love? What's that?" Spike mocked in high voice, "Love Buffy? Bloody hell, no! I hate her, I am evil and I'm gonna destroy her and the whole world on this occasion!" He took a breath and continued in his own voice: "That's not love, Peaches! That's bloody crap!"

"Shut up, Spike!" Angel growled, "You don't know what you're talking about! As Angelus I couldn't love her! The demon inside can't love, he's not capable of such feelings!"

"Bollocks!" the blond vampire shouted. "Did you even listen to anything I said? The demon is inside of you whatever you do! And if you can't love her as Angelus you can't love her at all. I know what I'm talking about cause I fell in love…without having a soul. Did you get that? The demon inside me fell in love with Buffy and then I got me that fucking soul! I needed it to give her what she deserved. So I went away and got my soul back. Listen, I got it by myself. I didn't get cursed, I decided, I fought for it! So don't tell me I'm not capable of love or that Buffy could never love me. If she fell for you bloody cheater, everything is possible!"

"Shut the hell up!" Angel yelled and lunged at his grandchilde.

Smash!

A well-placed fist crashed down on Spike's nose so quickly none of them did see it come. The vampire was blown across the room into the wall near the apartment door where he sank down with blood running down his bruised face.

"Angel!" Wesley shot a dismayed glare towards the elder vampire as he ran over to Spike. He knelt down beneath the blond and tried to take care of his face. But Spike backed away in anger and rose from the ground. He wiped away the blood from his nose and threw a burning glance at Angel.

"Yeah, Peaches! You've always been quick at beating up the ones who dared to tell you a truth you don't wanna hear. Should have bloody known that!"

He took a deep breath and looked at his grandsire expectantly. But Angel refused to return a glare and turned to the window instead.

Wesley and Cordelia stood frozen and didn't know how to react. They looked from one vampire to the other and waited for something to happen. Wesley watched Spike panting slightly.

The silence lasted for a few nearly unbearable moments. Then Spike sighed and turned to the door. With one last look over his shoulder he said: "I don't know what I'm bloody doing here after all. How could I ever expect you to help me, Peaches? You never listened to me, let alone cared…I don't need your help, I'm out of here!"

In rushing through the door he grabbed for his duster hanging there. It went flying around him and then Spike was gone.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"Wow!" Cordelia was the first to break the silence after Spike's departure. " I don't know about you but I think the soul may have improved his rhetoric skills."

Wesley walked up to Angel who looked out of the window.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked the vampire.

Angel spun around to face the human. He took an unneeded breath to collect himself before he said firmly: "I'm not going to discuss Spike with you, Wesley. You don't know him as I do, full stop. End of discussion."

"You are right." Wesley tried to remain calm though he'd rather have shouted. "I am not very familiar with Spike. My whole knowledge stems from the watcher's diaries and the files and thesis's of a council member. And as you know the council and I are not on most friendly terms, so their opinion…well. But," he took a deep breath, "from what I have seen in the last hour you neither seem to know Spike the smallest bit. At least for someone who spent time with him for nearly twenty years, who practically taught him all he knows…"

"I am not his sire!" Angel interrupted, "Drusilla is. She was with him for more than a century. She…"

"Drusilla may be Spike's sire, but who do you think was his shining example in being a vampire? Angel, Spike made you his idol, well, at least for the first years of his unlife. You know that, don't you?"

"Wesley," Angel asked calmly, "what do you want from me?"

"Pardon?" Wesley looked up dumbfounded.

"What do you want me to do?" Angel's voice slightly rose, "You want me to admit that Spike's right? That he really pissed me off because what he said is true? You want me to admit that I'm afraid that Buffy really could have fallen in love with him?"

"No."

"Well, but it's true, I am afraid of it." Angel turned to the window again and ran a hand through his hair, "I am terrified, I can't think of anything else right now. Everything inside my head revolves around it: Does Buffy really love him? Spike?"

Wesley didn't know what to answer. He looked at Cordelia for support but the girl just shrugged and gestured him to say something. He sighed and turned back to Angel.

"You know, I think it best for us to leave all that behind and concentrate back on the work. We have now but two options."

Angel cocked his head questionable.

"First: we can pretend that this last two days never happened and that Spike never came here. Or second: we believe in what Spike said and start to work on the how's and why's of it!"

"What do you mean?" Cordelia asked the ex-watcher.

"I mean," Wesley rubbed his eyes. "Time travel. Sounds interesting, doesn't it? If we are going to believe that it really happened to Spike we should start investigating how he did it, why and…how to send him back!"

Wesley thought this to be the best way to keep Angel from brooding about Buffy and her love life. Work, rational and interesting work.

"You wanna help him return to…wherever he belongs?" Angel asked.

"Well, you don't want him here, do you?" Wesley shot back.

Cordelia, who had been astonishingly quiet for a while, let out a snort. "Guys, imagine: two Spikes? There's enough trouble with one in our time. And besides, I think Giles' bathtub isn't big enough for both of them, is it?"

* * *

 

If they wanted to help Spike they needed him back, as Cordelia had pointed out the obvious. And they had all agreed on the fact that cruising through the city in search for the blond vampire would be useless (because there were millions of people in LA, not to mention the demons). So the only chance to get Spike back was waiting for him to return to Wesley's apartment.

Somehow Spike seemed to know and trust the Englishman, so he would come back for help eventually. But it was very unlikely that he would show up as long as Angel was around. So the elder vampire had gone back to his office. He would stay there till Wesley called him (as soon as there were news).

Despite their protests Cordelia had insisted on staying at Wesley's after Angel had left. She didn't see herself in danger, at least in no more than Wesley would be in if he stayed alone. And it would be much easier to cope with Spike when there were the two of them. There was also no reason Spike wouldn't show up because of her, as she had pointed out, since it hadn't been her who had smashed him into the wall.

There was nothing to be said against the logic of the ex-cheerleader and so she had stayed and the two humans had started the research.

Wesley knew he owned a few books which could be very useful on the topic of time travel. Cordelia had also suggested it would be good to call Giles in Sunnydale to collect as much information on Spike, the other Spike as they called him, as possible.

Though Wesley hadn't been very keen on talking to Giles or Buffy or any other witness of his failure in Sunnydale a few months ago, he had taken the phone and made the call. The former watcher had been surprised, to say the least, to hear from Wesley. But he had answered Wesley's questions about Spike nevertheless. They had talked about 'The Initiative' and the chip and Spike's current condition and it had all been very odd. But the oddest moment had been when a familiar voice had suddenly startled Wesley to death yelling from somewhere in the background:

"Hey watcher! Hang up the bloody phone and put the telly on. Don't make me miss 'Passions'!"

Spike! Undoubtedly Spike!

So if there had been any doubt inside Wesley about Spike's story, now it had been blasted away. Spike was definitely in Sunnydale and in LA at the same time. So it had to be true, period.

Wesley sighed and tried to lead his concentration back to the book he was reading. But it was senseless. Without Spike and more information on how this time travel had happened there was nothing to be done. All he and Cordelia could do right now was to wait for the vampire to return.

"So?" Cordy suddenly asked.

"So what?"

"Tell me," the girl urged, "what was it like?"

She had been waiting impatiently for a moment to ask Wesley about his abduction and, more important, about being rescued by Spike.

"What was what like?" the ex-watcher asked suspiciously, suppressing a sigh. He kept staring at his desk, at the books and rolls of parchment spread over it. The desk had always been his favourite place wherever he'd been living; it had always given him the feeling of security. As long as he could remember, books had always been his comfort when he felt insecure or tense or sad or lonely. Or all together, like so often.

Right now he felt…strange.

While he had been trying to read, to find something useful in the books, his thoughts had travelled towards Spike and his behaviour. He was still trying to figure out the character of the vampire. There was something about him…

Wesley's questions from this morning in the shower had been answered, yes. Wesley knew now Spike's motives for rescuing him, for not killing him. He simply needed Wesley's help. It had nothing to do with him as a person, it had been a selfish action to get his aim. Spike simply needed him alive to get back home.

Was that really all there was to know about Spike? The more Wesley thought about it the less he believed it to be true. Sure, Spike needed to get back home and therefore he needed him, but what about…

What about his soul? He'd said he'd gone and gained it back, on purpose!

Why would any demon go ahead and fight for his soul? Was it really possible for an evil vampire to fall in love? With the Slayer of all people? And if it was true, what about Buffy? Had she known about Spike's feelings? Had she perhaps returned them?

So many questions, so much Wesley wanted to learn about Spike! Therefore he wished for the vampire to return. But not only therefore…

"Earth to Wesley, earth to Wesley please! Anybody home?"

Wesley snatched out of his reverie and looked up. Cordelia was standing right in front of him waving a hand at his face.

"Gee, Wesley! Where have you been?" she asked.

"Sorry, Cordelia. What did you say?" he tried to put away the thought of a certain vampire and his love life.

"Well, what I wanted to know was: what was it like, being all alone with him all night?"

"Him?"

"Duh, him! Spike!"

"Spike? What about Spike?" Wesley couldn't follow her thoughts.

"Wesley! When he saved you yesterday he brought you here and you were alone with him all night!" the girl explained with rolling eyes.

"Cordelia, look! As much as I hate to confess but I had passed out! I had no idea that he was here with me all the time. I didn't even notice that he brought me here! So I don't know what it was like!"

Wesley knew it wasn't fair to lash out on the girl. But he couldn't help, talking about Spike while he wasn't even sure the vampire would return to him was very…'oh god, that came out wrong!' he berated himself. 'Return to me…I sound like a bloody ponce!'

"But now that you know, Wes." Cordelia continued, "How do you feel about being alone with Spike now? I'm heading home soon and if he comes back here then you're gonna be all alone with him! All night and all!" She smiled slightly. Wesley sighed and stood up to walk over to the kitchen. He started making tea and 'I am not trying to avoid the answer to that weird question' he told himself. He needed a tea, period! Cordelia followed him into the kitchen.

"Wesley?"

He turned towards the girl with the kettle in his hand. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Cordelia. If you want to know whether I'm afraid of Spike or not then I have to admit: I don't know exactly! Part of me wants to believe him, even be interested in him. I mean, not interested like… you know, not in some sort of… ugh… I mean interested in the soul and all, but another part of me is still yelling in my head: 'he's a vampire, he's an evil being, he killed thousands of innocent people and therefore: run, run, run!' I suppose that is the watcher-part inside of me!"

"But you are no longer a watcher, Wesley!" Cordelia said quietly.

"Yes, thank you very much for reminding me," Wesley turned to the counter and smashed the kettle onto the stove, "but I'm fully aware of being a failure."

"Hey," Cordelia lay a hand at his arm and forced him to look at her, "you're not a failure, Wesley! You're not!"

"Then why did the council fire me?" he asked bluntly.

"Look, Wesley," Cordelia smiled, "what happened in Sunnydale, with Faith turning evil and Buffy kind of ignoring you…yeah, well, okay, I think you failed the council's standards."

Wesley nodded and looked down to the floor.

"But…" Cordelia lifted his chin with her hand and made him look up again, "for my part, I think the council's standards are nothing but a big pile of crap." She gave him a warm smile. "All rules and laws…they have no idea what it's like to live on the hellmouth, to survive. They didn't have to fight against a bunch of vampires every night or stop an evil mayor from ascending. They are all stuffed bookworms and big talkers. They have no idea what it's like to really fight. But you do! You are in a much better way without them, believe me! You are much better than they are."

For a few moments Wesley forgot to breathe and stared at the girl in frozen awe. That had probably been the most sensitive and emotional speech he had ever heard from her. Well, he had ever heard addressed to him anyway.

"Thank you!" Wesley let out his breath and tried to blink away a single tear. 'Cordelia has really grown up in the few months since she left Sunnydale. Perhaps I can start doing that, too?'

"So," Cordelia suddenly continued, "what I wanted to say, before we got distracted because of this little lecture in self-esteem: if you are not sure whether to be afraid of Spike or not, then listen to the vibes."

"I beg your pardon? Listen to whom?" Wesley asked confused.

"Not who! What!" Cordelia urged. "I mean the vibes that are floating through the room in his presence! And don't you tell me you didn't notice!"

"Ugh, you mean…there were…vibes…floating around here…when Spike was here earlier? Did I get that right?" Wesley was totally taken aback. The tea was forgotten. He walked over to the living room with Cordelia at his heels and started looking in every corner and every space as if trying to get a glimpse of the 'vibes' she was babbling about.

"Oh, stop that, you silly!" Cordelia looked offended.

Wesley's lips started to quirk and when he grinned widely at her she couldn't help but start chuckling, too. They both fell onto the couch, laughing harder every time they happened to look at each other.

They were still laughing violently when a voice suddenly drawled:

"Having fun, are we?"

Wesley and Cordelia looked up. There was Spike leaning in the open apartment door with a wry grin on his face and blood splattered all over him.

It was on his face, his pants, his black T-shirt and his duster. Even his bleached hair and his doc's were covered in red stains.

"Oh god!" Cordelia breathed. Wesley simply stared in shocking silence at the vampire who had pushed himself off the doorframe and came now swaggering into the apartment.

After three swaying steps he suddenly stumbled and fell face forward onto the floor.

"Spike?" Wesley woke from his stupor, stood up quickly and rushed towards the sprawled figure on the carpet. He shook Spike's shoulder but the vampire didn't respond.

He was out cold.


	10. Chapter Nine

 

"Cordelia, would you help me move him onto the couch?" Wesley demanded when Spike hadn't woken up after several minutes.

"What?"

"You take his feet and then we carry him over to…"

"Eww, Wesley!" The girl interrupted him with a squeal. "He is all covered in blood. Think about the stains on your couch!"

"You're right. We should probably remove the dirty clothing first," Wesley suggested.

"Again with the 'eww', dumbo. Naked vampire is neither something you want to taint your couch with. Hopefully!" Cordelia's face was scrunched up.

Wesley blushed slightly. You could argue with that, could you not? "But we have to do something, Cordelia. We cannot let him lie there till he wakes up by himself, can we?"

Cordelia stepped closer to the still motionless vampire on the ground.

"Is he injured?" she asked.

"What do you mean by that? You see all the blood. Of course…"

"It's not his!" the vision-girl stated.

"Huh?"

"Wesley, there's blood, yes," she explained patiently, "but I don't see any wounds. He is not hurt. The blood must be from someone else."

"But…"

"He probably went out on a killer-rama and slaughtered a bunch of innocent people just because he was angry when he left!" Cordelia assumed. Then her eyes went bigger and she exclaimed: "Wesley, what if the blood's Angel's? What if he killed him?"

Wesley simply stared at her in shock. He didn't believe what she'd presumed, but…

"We should call him," he said. When Cordelia didn't move he clarified: "Angel, Cordy. Go and call him."

"Right!"

She went over to the phone and dialled Angel's number. After only a few seconds Wesley heard her breathe in relief:

"Thank god you're there, Angel! … Yes, he's back. No… look, he didn't…I don't think you can talk to him now, Angel. He's currently polluting Wesley's carpet with blood. Eww, no, he's not feeding!… No, Angel. It's not his, he's not hurt. Just unconscious."

Wesley stopped listening to Cordy's explanations when he heard a low groan suddenly emanating from Spike. The vampire moved his head and looked around.

"Spike?" Wesley inquired and crouched down next to him cautiously. "Are you hurt, Spike?"

The blond shook his head and groaned again. He tried to sit up but stopped his attempts when the room went spinning around his head. He closed his eyes again.

"What is wrong with you, Spike?" Wesley asked concerned.

"Blood," Spike croaked hoarsely.

"I know you are covered in blood, Spike. What happened?"

The vampire shook his head again and grabbed Wesley's shoulder for support. He pulled the ex-watcher down and whispered into his ear:

"Blood… I need…blood!" A loud growling from his stomach made clear what he meant.

"Oh," Wesley paled. "Of course, you need to drink blood. I guess you haven't fed at all since you came here, right?"

Spike nodded and confirmed: "Today's the third day without any."

The thought of Spike simply being in need to eat (or drink) something had not once before occurred to Wesley. Three days, god lord! And he'd thought he'd been starved yesterday during his short abduction.

Wes looked up to Cordelia still talking to Angel on the phone. "I don't have any…"

"What?" Cordy asked into the receiver. "Okay, I'll come and get it. Bye, Angel."

Cordelia threw the receiver down and glared at Spike.

"Well, since we don't want you to start chewing on Wesley here I'm going over to Angel's and get you some blood! And you better pay for it later, mister."

Spike sat up cautiously and mocked: "And what should I pay you with, luv? A button of my duster? A lock of blond hair?"

"You don't have any money?" Cordelia asked incredulously.

"Hey, it's not that I knew I would end up here stuck in the past!" Spike tried to defend himself.

"Yeah, right. And surely there's no need for you to carry money in 2004, huh?"

Despite his weak state Spike had to smile at Cordelia's ability to banter with him. Once a Scooby, always a Scooby, right?

"I'm sure the high and mighty Angel will provide something for a poor sod like me. After all, I'm family am I not?" he smirked.

Cordelia snorted and went for the door.

"Family, my ass!" Then she threw one last inquisitive glance at Wesley as if to ask 'Are you okay alone with him?'

Wesley's eyes briefly travelled over the blond vampire still on the floor before he nodded at Cordelia. Yes, he would be alright with Spike alone for a while. Maybe now he would get the chance to talk to him some more about the soul and all. And maybe he would be able to figure out why he felt so intrigued by Spike.

* * *

 

After Cordelia had left Wesley had suggested for Spike to scrub off the blood from his body. Spike had assured him that it wasn't human, he'd conveniently run into a bunch of demons on the streets and had worked off his anger killing them in a quick fight. And Wesley believed him.

He'd helped Spike off the ground and into the bathroom where the vampire was now enjoying a scalding hot shower. The water ran down his body and washed away all traces of dirt and blood while he thought hard about his next moves.

He needed to find a way back to his time, that much was clear. And he'd need Wesley for that. Maybe Cordelia, too. But after what had happened earlier Spike was more determined than ever to exclude Angel. He simply couldn't work together with this time's Angel. It was hard enough cooperating with the one from 2004.

But this younger version… no, they were just too different. This Angel simply hadn't gone through whatever he'd have to go through to become the person he would be in 2004. This time's Angel simply wasn't ready to accept Spike for what or who he was. They would be killing each other within days.

So Spike would have to put all his hopes on Wesley.

Oh, sure, he knew just as well that this was not his Wesley, not the one he knew from his time. This man radiated innocence just like his Wes radiated strength and ruthlessness.

But Spike had also seen a glimpse of those qualities in this time's Wesley. Before, when Wesley had stepped between the fighting vampires… there had been something in the ex-watcher's eyes, some glimmer of what he was capable of…

'Yes,' Spike thought determined and turned the shower off. 'He'll find a way. He'll help me get back.'

As if on cue there was a knock and Wesley's hesitating voice rang out through the door: "Spike, Cordelia's back with the blood."

"About time!" Spike grumbled and stepped out of the shower. He was suddenly feeling dizzy again, maybe he should have waited with taking a shower till after he'd fed?

"Wait a mo," the vampire made his way over to the door and opened it a crack to find Wesley waiting on the other side. "I don't suppose you could lend me some of your clothes, pet, could you? Not that I mind walking around starkers…"

Wesley's eyes went wide behind his glasses and a small blush crept onto his face when he took in Spike's naked body, drops of water running down his smooth and muscular chest towards his navel and further down to…

"Ugh, I… oh," Wesley stammered and his eyes snapped back to the vampire's leering face. "Oh, sure, ugh… I'll go and, and… you know, get you something."

"You do that, pet." Spike smirked and watched Wesley turn around so quickly that he nearly tripped over his own feet. "Oh, and… Wes?"

"Y-yes?"

"Don't you dare bring me some of those poncy things of yours. I want something black!"

"Black, of course!" Wesley nodded without facing Spike and vanished into his bedroom to retrieve the only black clothes he owned. The outfit he'd worn when he'd first arrived in L.A.

Spike could keep the clothes for all he cared, especially those damn leather pants that had chafed his balls and nearly cut off his circulation on the bike.

He would be just too glad to never wear those pants again and Spike… Spike would be looking even more gorgeous than without a stitch on, wouldn't he?

Wesley returned a moment later to the still open bathroom door, leather pants and black T-shirt thrown over his arm.

"Here," he muttered and held out the clothes to Spike who took them with an impressed whistle. Wesley darted around and went back to the living room, but not without throwing another furtive glance at Spike's naked backside.

'Well, maybe not more gorgeous than that!' Wesley thought to himself and blushed. 'I'm not sure that is even possible.'

* * *

 

Dressed in astonishingly fitting leather pants (if perhaps a tad too long) and a black shirt Spike had joined the two waiting humans in the living room. He'd hungrily gulped down two mugs of heated pigs blood before he'd felt sated enough to finally start telling his tale about the time travel.

Cordelia had listened closely, throwing in odd comments every now and then, while Wesley hadn't known what questions to ask first. It was all so very confusing!

But eventually Spike had reached the end of his tale and then the three of them had started arguing about the best way to go from here.

Wesley suppressed a sigh and muttered: "I still think we should include Angel in this discussion. He may be able to…"

"No!" Spike cut him off and Wesley let out another sigh before he shared a look with Cordelia that spoke volumes.

For the better part of an hour the two of them had now tried to convince Spike of the fact that they'd need Angel's help if they wanted to send Spike back to his time (or was that forward?). But the blond vampire had stayed adamant in his refusal to include Angel.

Spike didn't want Angel's help, or at least he didn't want to spend any more time in his grandsire's presence than necessary. He'd pointed out that the chances of Angel actually being of help were much slimmer than the chances of the two vampires killing each other in the process.

And Wesley could actually understand that reasoning. After what he'd seen earlier and what he'd learned so far of their history he knew that Spike was right.

But… if Angel was out of the picture to help Spike that meant…that he would have to be the one in charge.

He would be the one completely responsible for Spike's fate. And that was a thought Wesley absolutely didn't like. Him? Responsible for what happened to Spike?

No way!

Wesley simply knew that he would sure as hell 'bollocks things up' as Spike would say. Though the vampire seemed to have some strange sort of confidence in his abilities (and where the hell had he gotten that from?) Wesley was convinced that he would fail.

And then what?

He'd have another failure piled onto his shoulders, another task he'd not have fulfilled. Another life he'd have risked and lost.

Wesley absentmindedly shook his head. No, he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't take over the responsibility for Spike and what happened to him. He couldn't…

"So, now that we're all clear on not including Angel," Spike's steel voice broke through Wesley's glum thoughts, "let's get out your books and start the research. Would be ridiculous if we didn't have me back home in no time, perfect little Scooby-group that we make."

"Huh? We?" Wesley asked bewildered.

"Sure," Spike nodded and went over to one of Wesley's countless bookshelves to skim through the titles. "An ex-watcher, an ex-Scooby and me? Perfect research-group if you ask me."

"You…" Wesley stuttered, "you mean you are going to help?"

Spike turned his head towards where Wesley was staring at him open-mouthed. "What? You thought I wouldn't? Let you two do all the work?"

"Ugh, I…" That was exactly what Wesley had thought but he knew better than to say it out loud. Cordelia didn't have that much tact though but voiced her opinion freely: "What, Spike? Did Giles rub off on you when you were chained to his bathtub? Or why are you suddenly so keen on research?"

"Got nothing to do with the watcher."

"No?" Cordelia grinned.

"No, pet," Spike smirked back and pointed at Wesley. "But do you really think I'd let him do all the work at the risk that a false translation could send me to never-never-land?"

"Huh?"

"Look, I've heard all the stories," Spike stated. "Shanshu-Prophecy ring any bells?"

"No?" Cordelia frowned and it took Spike a few seconds and one look into Wesley's blank stare to remember where and when he was.

"Oh, right! Didn't happen yet," he muttered chagrined. "Never mind, let's get cracking!"

He threw an armful of books onto the table between them and sat down, not missing Wesley's contemplative stare into space.

'Oh bugger,' Spike thought, 'now I've gone and put a bug right in his ear. I wonder what's gonna happen now with all that Shanshu-rot!'

He contemplated for a second to try and distract Wesley from thinking about what he'd said but then he simply shrugged it off.

After all, what were the chances of the whole future changing because of one small slip-up?


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that for several next chapters you won't see much of Angel. I was somehow fed up with him when I wrote these parts, so… I left him out and concentrated on the Spike-Wesley-dynamic. I hope you don't miss Peaches too much. But for those of you who do, let me assure you: Angel will be back later on.

Chapter Ten

 

Closed blinds kept the morning sun from steaming into Wesley's apartment. Instead most of the living-room was lulled into a vampire-friendly dimness, broken only by the harsh glow of the lamp hanging from the ceiling. It gave off just enough light to illuminate the large table underneath that currently served as the central research base for Spike and Wesley, sitting opposite between numerous piles of books.

"Spike, hand me the fourth Watcher's Compendium," Wesley stated and extended his left hand expectantly.

The vampire had been about to take a sip from his mug but stopped and reached for one of several heavy tomes stacked next to his chair. Before he'd even placed it on top of the steadily growing pile of books on the table Wesley's voice rang out: "No, not that one. That's the third."

"How do you know?" Spike wondered but put the heavy book down again to pick up another. He'd been sure Wesley's eyes had never even left the handwritten scribble in front of him.

"I know," Wesley clarified and looked up at last, "because that's the book I asked you to read half an hour ago only to notice you putting it aside without once opening it, Spike!"

Spike bristled and was about to defend himself when the shrill ringing of Wes' phone cut through the air.

'Thank God, saved by the bell,' he thought and watched Wesley stand up to answer the phone and vanish into the kitchen. Pah, as if anything could escape Spike's vampire hearing!

"Hello? Ah, Angel," Spike could hear Wesley's voice loud and clear through the half-closed door. "No, everything is fine, Angel. Spike hasn't killed me yet."

Spike shook his head, took another sip of blood and tuned out the rest. He didn't need to hear more for he knew exactly what it was Wesley and Angel discussed on the phone. It had been like this for the last five days.

Some time each day Angel called to make sure that Spike hadn't done anything stake-worthy, that he'd behaved. Of course Angel pretended to also be interested in the progress they were making but Spike knew that his grandsire only wanted to check up on Wes.

Angel still didn't trust him but Spike couldn't have cared less.

As long as Angel only called and not came by in person it was fine by him.

The cheerleader Spike could tolerate, he'd actually enjoyed some of the verbal sparring he'd shared with Cordelia over the last few days.

But even more he'd come to enjoy the time he'd spent with Wesley alone, each sifting through different spell books and ancient looking tomes, throwing thoughts and theories back and forth (well, most times it had been Wesley who'd come up with a theory and Spike had been the one to listen to his rant, only to blast it all into useless pieces a second later). They'd both been trying to find an explanation for why a spell that should have turned Spike sun-proof had thrown him four years back in the past instead.

And although Spike and Wesley had yet to find a solution for their problem their research hadn't been completely fruitless.

Quite the contrary, they had discovered – and Spike was still having some trouble wrapping his mind around that – two references to his very own self. Two ancient books actually contained the exact same predictions made about him, William the Bloody.

Oh, not that Spike had been mentioned explicitly in them, not by name or anything, but… the translations had been more than clear. The texts had foretold that a vampire would willingly seek out his soul and they had described the trials he'd have to endure for that very accurately.

Spike had briefly wondered in jest if there was perhaps a clip on youtube about all that, too.

But the last paragraph of the second text had quickly sobered him up again.

_"The vampire that chooses the light will shatter the very foundations of time and space and must seek out The Lost Words Veiled. Only they will restore all that was vanquished and time and space will be healed again."_

Spike had felt a chill run down his spine reading that. Wordlessly he'd shoved the book over to Wesley to let him have a look. And as soon as the ex-watcher had read the paragraph he'd looked up, looked into the vampire's blue eyes and they'd both been completely certain that they'd found it at last.

'The Lost Words Veiled'… they would hold the key to Spike's fate.

But were should they start searching for something lost and veiled?

Wesley had been sure that he'd heard about this before, back when he'd still been in the Council's employ. So yesterday he'd started gathering all the stuff he still owned from his days as a Watcher, every book, diary and handwritten note still in his possession, and had piled them on top of his living-room table.

He'd tried to arrange everything into what passed for a method before his eyes had finally become heavy from lack of sleep and he'd simply been too unfocussed to go on.

Barely awake again (and surely not remotely refreshed enough) Wesley had continued his research this morning, not bothering with breakfast or even a single cup of coffee. Spike had watched him, torn between gratitude for Wesley's dedicated help and a feeling of concern for the human's self-sacrifice that had become so familiar to Spike in the future, when he'd been living and working with Wesley. Eventually the concern had won and Spike had put his foot down and had forced Wesley to take a break from research to eat and drink something.

And then there had been nothing but research again until now, when Angel's phone call had provided another (welcoming) interruption.

But soon enough, and far too soon for the likes of Spike, Wesley would be back in full research-mode again.

Spike let out a small sigh and thought: 'Not that I'm not bloody glad for all his help… I wanna find a way back as well, but… it's been nothing but sodding books for five sodding days! We haven't even celebrated Christmas with so much as a drink! Not that it means anything to me but… what about Wes? Or the cheerleader? Nothing! And by the way, who the hell can manage to sit still for that long? Not yours truly, that's for sure! I need to…'

Spike's thought trailed off when Wesley entered the living-room again, phone still pressed tightly to his ear.

"Yes Angel, I will call you as soon as I have news. I feel we are close to finally getting somewhere and I assure you, I will not rest until I have found that reference I know must exist somewhere in my books."

Spike suppressed another sigh. "Oh goody!"

He didn't miss the look Wesley threw him but decided not to comment further when Wesley finally hung up the phone and sat down at the table again.

The ex-watcher took his pen and picked up their earlier conversation without missing a beat.

"Spike, the Watcher's Compendium IV. And this time, please be so kind as to hand me the right one!"

The vampire had to smile at the changes he'd already noticed in Wesley's behaviour over those last few days. He'd started to feel more at ease with having a vampire as his constant companion. Spike grinned and examined the books' spines closely before handing over one heavy volume. He was suddenly very determined to be of more help to him but at the same time he knew, considering his impatient nature, that this new resolve would be only short-lived.

* * *

 

"Wes!"

"No!" Wesley inhaled deeply and dug his fingers into the book on the table. He started to count silently. One, two, thr…

"Wes-ley!"

"No-oh!" Four, five…breathe, Wesley, breathe. How on earth could a one hundred something year old vampire manage to sound like a pouting child? How? Six, seven…

"Oh, come on, Wes!"

"For god's sake, Spike, what? What do you want?"

Wesley waited for the vampire to start complaining and sighed inwardly. After all, he was getting better. This morning he'd only been able to count up to 'four' before he'd lost his patience with the most annoying vampire he'd ever met (not that he'd met many, but…).

"Sun's down is all." Spike stated matter-of-factly.

"So?"

"Thought we could go out and have some fun killing demons."

"We've got work to do here, Spike!" Wesley tried to reason with the vampire.

"Oh, come on, pet! We need to take a break at last!" Spike pouted and soundly shut the heavy volume in front of him.

"Spike," Wesley sighed without taking his eyes off the text he was currently trying to decipher, "we have been researching for what, five hours today?"

"Yeah, five bloody hours too much if you ask me," the vampire muttered under his breath. Wesley didn't hear it (or pretended not to).

"You cannot be serious! We are that close to discovering… I mean, how am I supposed to find 'The Lost Words Veiled' if we give up looking that quickly?" Wesley finally looked up from the table and threw a pointed look over to the vampire currently occupying his couch.

Spike glared back annoyed.

"Never said to give up!" he grumbled.

"Good."

"I just need a bloody break is all!" Spike looked around for his smokes.

"Go to it," Wes tried to concentrate back on his translation.

"Seems like I haven't had a sodding smoke in ages!"

"Then go and have one, for god's sake!" the ex-watcher's voice rose again.

Spike's vampire hearing noticed Wes' heartbeat starting to quicken from suppressed rage and he smiled wickedly. God, he loved to rouse this Wesley. Unlike his future counterpart he was so easily to tease and the outcome was so… potent. All that blood rushing through his veins and the fire suddenly brightening his eyes…

It seemed to Spike as if, when he was riled up, all the outer layers of Wesley's persona, all his nervousness, anxiety and clumsiness got suddenly ripped apart so that his inner self got the chance to shine through.

Without his insecurities Wesley's character was strong and determined, he could be both cold as ice and burning with an inner fire. It was a person Spike knew (or would know in the future) and… yeah, well… missed.

Over the last few days Spike had come to realise that he missed the Wesley he knew, the elder, stronger Wesley. Therefore the vampire took every opportunity to prod him, to tease him. Lure the other Wes out. Have a glimpse at who he would be.

Like he did now.

"What about you?" Spike asked after the short break his inner monologue had given Wesley.

"Huh?"

"I'm going out to kill something. You coming?"

"No."

"Please, Wes!"

Silence. Spike waited and listened for signs of Wes' increasing heartbeat.

"Wesley!" he pouted again. There it was, the intoxicating sound. 'Got you!'

"Oh, heaven and earth!" Wesley jumped up and stormed over to the couch to face the vampire who was suddenly all innocent-looking. "What is it with you, Spike? What are you, five?" He tried to catch his breath.

"No," the vampire drawled, "I'm…"

"Shut up! God, Spike! I thought you were a master vampire! And here you are, acting like a spoiled child!"

Spike's eyes gleamed with joy. This was the Wes he wanted!

"No wonder Drusilla went insane over you!"

'Oi, now that was too much, wasn't it? Time for the master vampire to come out and show this human his place!'

Wesley only registered a blurry movement in black and then Spike was directly in his face.

"What did you say?" his voice was no longer annoying or pouting but fierce like the vicious killer he was. God, he loved this part!

"I…I didn't…" Wesley paled and began to stutter. He tried to back away step by step.

"Don't you dare insult my Sire!" Spike snarled and stepped up to Wesley. He was a hundred percent the master vampire the ex-watcher feared. His steel blue eyes were burning with fire, his mouth was set firm and dominant… he was a picture of complete power.

Wesley felt the panic overtake him. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest, his breath came in ragged gasps and the blood was dashing in his ears.

Spike revelled in his power over the human. He heard the blood rushing through the body, he smelled the fear, the panic and… arousal? No, that was his own.

Wait! He was aroused?

Bloody hell, this was Wesley! Was he really getting off on threatening Wes?

"Shit," Spike gasped and stepped away quickly. Wesley watched him pacing towards the kitchen and back, muttering incoherently under his unneeded breath.

"Oh bugger, what's the matter with me? I can't…" Spike stopped in midair and threw a glance over to Wesley. The ex-watcher had taken a seat on the couch and was trying to get his racing heart back in check. Suddenly he looked up to the disturbed vampire.

"Spike…" he said cautiously.

"Bloody hell! I need to kill something!" Spike exclaimed and stormed out of the apartment.

Wesley watched him leave in stunned silence.

'What's wrong with him?' he wondered.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

When Spike returned to Wesley's apartment some time later he brought a slightly concerned but nevertheless determined looking Cordelia with him.

Concentration broken by the clicking sound of high heels on his floor Wesley looked up from his work and asked astonished: "Cordelia! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I…" the girl paused briefly to share a look with Spike. Then she smiled brightly and went on: "I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I'd come by and see how you're doing!"

Spike rolled his eyes. Really, could the girl be any more obvious? And sure enough, suspicion crossed Wesley's face before his eyes travelled from the cheerleader to the vampire and back to Cordy again.

"You were in the neighbourhood?"

"Yes, I…"

"What is this? Spike, did you put her up to this impromptu visit?" Wesley's eyes bore into the vampire once more and Spike had to force himself not to crumble under the glare. He cocked his eyebrow as if to ask 'Who, me?' and shook his head vehemently.

"So you expect me to believe that Cordelia here got the sudden urge to visit all by herself? Certainly not!"

"Hey, still in the room here!" Cordy groused. "And why not, Mister Suspicious?"

"Because it's Friday night, Cordy. Your weekly 'I-am-a-rising-actress-and-I-need-to-mingle-with-the-rich-and-famous-instead-of-you-losers-night!" Wesley stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for an answer.

"What? I've never called you a loser, Wesley!"

"You most certainly have!"

"No, I haven't! Not since Sunnydale!" Cordelia stepped up to Wesley and mirrored his stance unconsciously. Spike watched the bickering go on for a few more seconds, stunned by the intensity and sheer inventiveness they were showing.

But finally he had enough of it and shouted: "Oh, bloody hell, shut up, you two! You're worse than two kids on a schoolyard! Why don't you shag already and get it out of your system?"

That comment shut both humans up immediately. But not for long.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Eww, are you insane? Him?"

Wesley, who'd stood there glaring at Spike, now turned back to Cordelia with fierce eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Wesley. You're my friend, but…"

"But? I remember you throwing yourself into my arms for a kiss not too long ago!"

"Only to get rid of those visions! Oh, and newsflash, Wesley," Cordelia added in a mocking tone, "it wasn't a kiss to write home about!"

Spike rolled his eyes and sighed. Here they went off again. He had to do something!

"Okay, enough!" he shouted and took a step forward to break the staring contest that was taking place. "All this bloody squabbling makes me want to heave. I need a drink and a good spot of violence on top." He went to retrieve his duster from the coat racket and brought Wesley's jacket along as well. Holding it out to the ex-watcher he said:

"Wes, you've been working for hours, what am I saying, for days on end! That's enough, you need a break! So, yes, I asked the cheerleader to come over and try to get your head out of those musty books! So, what do you say? You're up for a night of drinks and violence?"

For a moment it looked as if Wesley wanted to refuse. But then he caught Cordelia's pleading glance and, looking back at Spike, couldn't help but react to the smirk the vampire sent him.

"Well, I suppose the lost words veiled will be just as lost and veiled tomorrow, won't they?" He pulled on his jacket and followed Spike to the door.

Cordelia trailed after the two and, in closing the door on her way out, muttered: "English guys! Why am I putting up with them again?"

She got two different raised eyebrows as an answer, one offended and one cocky and sexy. 'Right, that's why!' she thought and followed them outside.

When the small group reached the street Wesley was astonished to see two young women waiting beside a stylish blue convertible.

"Finally, Cor!" one of them, a beautiful black woman with short hair and an even shorter skirt, announced.

The other one, an equally stunning Blonde, devoured Wesley and Spike with her eyes and leered: "Why, hello there, sexy! Why don't you two take a seat with me in the back?"

"Down, Cynthia," Cordelia advised sternly. "At least wait until we're at the club till you eat them."

"Eat? Wh-what?" Wesley stuttered and wondered if perhaps these two beauties were vampires and… had Cordelia been turned as well?

Spike watched Wesley closely and then nudged his shoulder in walking past. "I don't think she meant it like that, pet."

"Huh?" Wesley's gaze travelled back to Spike who'd walked up to the Blonde.

"I'm Spike," he smirked coyly and whispered close to her ear: "You have to go easy on Wes, he's a bit… on the shy side."

"Ooh, I like the accent," Cynthia gushed back.

"Good to know, right Wes?" Spike threw a look over his shoulder to where Wesley seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"What? Oh, yes, ugh… that is to say…"

"Tick, tock…" the black girl, who'd already climbed back into the driver's seat, said annoyed. "Come on, girls! Mike and his friends are waiting at the club. What's with you, boys? Coming?"

"Ugh, I…" Wesley stammered and eyed the back seat suspiciously. He still hadn't moved.

Spike watched him for a second before he asked Cordelia: "What club?"

"The Seventy-Seven," Cordelia threw back and walked to the passenger's door. "It's a New Age club downtown, between Riverside and…"

"Yeah, I know it." Spike cut her off. Then he walked back to Wesley and suggested: "Tell you what, ladies. Why don't you go on and Wes and I here, we'll take his bike and join you in a little, eh?"

"Fine by me," the girl in the driver's seat shrugged and without another glance started the car. Spike watched the convertible speed away and then turned back to Wesley.

"What's the matter, Wes? Snap out of it, they're only girls!"

"Huh?" the ex-watcher finally came out of his stupor and looked at Spike, an embarrassed and apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry Spike, it's just that… I'm not used to… I mean, did you notice her skirt? If you could call it that."

"Looked more like a leather belt if you ask me."

"Exactly!"

They shared a dreamy smile before Spike added: "You know, they made chastity belts like that back in the days. Though, I figure chastity is the last thing on that woman's mind tonight."

He clapped Wesley on the back and started walking towards the garage's entrance. "Come on, Wes. Let's get your bike. Wouldn't want to keep those ladies waiting now, would we?"

"No," Wesley answered and quickly suited up to the vampire. Then suddenly a thought crossed his mind. "Ugh, Spike? How do you know I own a motorcycle?"

Spike stopped dead in his tracks and frowned. Of course Wesley owned a bike… his Wesley! For a moment there he'd completely forgotten that he was in the past and the thought that this younger Wesley may not have one yet hadn't even crossed his mind.

"You do have a bike, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's down in the garage, but…" Wesley trailed off, unsure.

"But what, pet?"

A wicked smile suddenly grazed Wesley's features. "I only have one decent helmet while the other one, the one for the backseat rider, well… it's…"

"Yeah?" Spike drawled.

"It's pink!" Wesley grinned.

Spike's eyes went comically wide for a second before he simply shrugged and said with a smirk: "Well, shouldn't clash too much with your outfit then."

"My outfit?" Wesley exclaimed, "Why my outfit? I'm not wearing it, I'm the driver after all!"

"No, you're not."

"But… but it is my bike!"

"So?"

"So? My bike, my rules!" Wesley huffed.

Spike turned around and flashed an evil smirk. "Vampire, remember? Never one to go by sodding rules."

They'd reached the garage's entrance by now and Spike walked inside, looking around for the motorcycle. "Okay, where is it?"

"Uh-ugh," Wesley shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not telling you until you promise to play by my rules!"

Spike tried to look menacing when he stepped up to Wesley, he really did. But the fact that the ex-watcher was a good head taller and towering over him made it nearly impossible. Besides, Spike was having too much fun quarrelling with Wes. The familiar banter was something he'd missed like nothing else since coming here and Spike felt completely at home for the first time in days.

But nevertheless he tried to keep a straight face when he answered with puppy-dog eyes and a pout: "Okay, Wes. I'll be a good little vampire tonight and do what you say! I'll even let you drive!"

"What? Really?" Wesley was totally taken aback by Spike's sudden change in demeanour. The vampire simply shrugged and Wesley finally led him towards his bike, all the while throwing suspicious glances his way.

Spike took the pink helmet without a blink and pulled it over his head. Wesley had to laugh out loud at the sight and Spike smiled inwardly.

'Well, seeing him like this, so relaxed and carefree… making a complete prat of myself is worth it I guess!' Spike thought pleased. 'And besides, it's not like anybody's gonna see me like this, I'll certainly make sure of that!'

"Hop on, gorgeous!" Wesley grinned through the helmet's visor at the vampire still standing beside the bike. Spike climbed in behind and motioned for Wesley to start the engine.

"Drive on, you pillock!" he smiled and grabbed Wesley's waist for leverage. And with that they went off to join Cordelia and her friends at the club.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

It was nearly morning when Spike and Wesley finally made their way home from a night full of drinks, dull conversations with stupid girls and more exciting brawls with demons and drunken humans alike. On their short drive home Wesley had to cling violently to Spike's back to prevent himself from toppling off the bike.

He wasn't sure whether it was because of the vampire's rather careless driving or his own slightly drunken state. Well, Wes didn't care at all. He also didn't care that Spike had somehow made him ride in the back this time, complete with the ridiculous pink helmet that went along with it. He was just glad that he managed to stay on the bike till they reached his apartment block. Hell, he even got the offensive helmet off his head without knocking his glasses askew.

Spike didn't notice any of Wes' troubles for he was deeply lost in his own thoughts and didn't say a word till they reached the apartment.

Wes opened the door, stumbled inside and fell onto the couch with a thud.

"Home sweet home!" he sighed and then he frowned at the vampire who's eyes suddenly threatened to pop out of his head.

"What?" Wes asked bewildered.

"Nothing," Spike shook his head. Bugger, first the bloke did steal his heart and now his words, too? 'Wait, did I just say he stole my heart? Oh bugger!'

Wesley threw a close look at the vampire.

"You're behaving truly weird tonight, Spike!" he stated.

"Am not!"

"Are, too!"

"Bloody am not!"

"Bloody…" Wes snorted helplessly. He slipped off his shoes and pulled his legs up to rest them on the cushions next to him. Then he leaned back and said: "Would you please tell me then why you keep standing in the doorway like you're rooted to the spot? Why don't you come on in?"

"Well," Spike closed the door smirking, "currently you happen to be occupying what serves as my bed." He stepped closer to the couch and continued: "So unless you want a sexy vampire sprawled on your lap you should clear the spot and let me get my rest." He glared menacingly down at the ex-watcher and waited. One, two…

"Ugh, of course… I'm sorry!" Wesley stuttered and sprang up.

Spike smiled inwardly. God, he loved to tease Wesley! But even frightened bookworms deserved a break from time to time, didn't they?

So Spike pushed Wesley back to sit on the couch again and assured:

"Just kidding, Wes. Relax!"

He swaggered over to the small table at the wall, grabbed a bottle and turned around waving it.

"So, what do you think, pet? Care for another drink before we call it a night?"

* * *

 

An hour and a bottle of whiskey later, the two men were sitting side by side on the couch bickering about all and everything.

"No," Wesley said with a slur in his voice, "certainly not!"

"Oh, come on!" Spike pouted. "You can't say that and then slip out with no bloody proof! I wanna see!"

"How am I supposed to show you something that doesn't exist? Tell me?"

"Well, nothing easier than that!" Spike tried to get up but had to grab Wesley's shoulder for support. He went to the cupboard and flipped through the small pile of CD's.

"Wow, what's this?" Spike took out a CD and put it into the stereo system. A few seconds later a dark male voice filled the air.

"Am I discovering your hidden dark side at last, Wes?" Spike mocked.

"You really wouldn't want to see my dark side, Spike." Wesley mumbled into his whiskey. When he looked up he saw Spike smiling slightly.

"What?" Wesley's tone was sharp. He hated when people were smiling at him that way. It looked like they didn't believe him capable of anything bad at all. If they only knew…

"Don't mock me, Spike! You are not the only one with a dark past."

Spike walked over to the couch and sat down next to Wesley. He placed a hand at the man's shoulder in a mollifying gesture and assured: "I know what you mean, pet. And I'm sorry."

"You… you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"Damn well I do. I know what he did to you." Spikes voice was calm and sympathetic.

Wesley looked shocked. "He?"

"Your father." Spike felt Wesley trembling. "You told me, well not everything, but …after you…" Spike's voice trailed off. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Wesley that he was gonna gun down his own father, could he? Even if it would not be his real father, the fact that Wesley would be willing to do it…it would be too much to bear for him right now.

"When we first met," Wesley said quietly, "You called me Mr. I'm-so-cool-I-sh…"

"Yeah," Spike stopped him, "I said that. But I can't tell you…I mean, it would be no good to tell you too much about your future, would it?"

They looked at each other silently. Then Wesley turned away and took another sip from his glass. When he returned his eyes to Spike he noticed the vampire was still staring at him.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm still waiting for you to show me your ill dancing style!" Spike tried to lighten the mood.

"I won't! It's worse than my kissing, according to certain people!"

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Is that right?"

Wesley shot an embarrassed glance towards Spike. "Well, Cordelia said so. And she should know."

"What, because of one tiny snog that didn't rock her world? Caught you off guard, is all. I bet there're other girls who'd say the opposite," Spike leered. He noticed Wesley's embarrassed headshake. "Oh, well… blokes then."

"What? Why would you…?" Wesley's head shot up and Spike could tell that he was fighting a blush. "Hey, not judging. It's all fine by me. Been there myself a couple of times," Spike admitted.

"Really?"

"Yeah, well… early days. Dru'd bring someone home and… well, we shared. Didn't much care for gender then. It was all about making Dru happy, you know?" Spike shrugged and took another sip of his whiskey.

"Oh," Wesley didn't know what to say. The things he'd learned about Spike in the last few days… never in his time as a Watcher had he dreamed of knowing such intimate details about vampires. He pondered the fact for a while in silence but eventually his curiosity got the better of him.

"What about, uh…" Wes searched for a way to phrase it best. "Without Drusilla? Did you ever… you know?

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Are you asking me if I've ever got it on with a bloke?"

"I… no, I just… I mean, well," Wesley stumbled over his words. He didn't know why he was asking and quickly averted his gaze. "You're right, it's none of my business."

"Could be." The words were out before Spike knew it. But the moment they passed his lips he knew they were true.

Time seemed to stand still. Wesley dared not to breathe and stared into Spike's eyes. 'Good Lord, he's gorgeous' he thought. 'Eyes, cheeks, mouth… everything'. He felt himself blush further but couldn't have cared less. Spike was staring right back at him with his gorgeous blue eyes and… was he leaning in?

Wesley couldn't help it, he leaned forward a tick and nervously wetted his lips. And sure enough, Spike's gaze travelled down to Wesley's mouth, then back up again. He cocked his head and then…

And then Wesley's glass slipped out of his sweating palm and fell to the ground with an earth-shattering crash. Both men jumped apart like they'd been struck by lightning. Spike fell back into the sofa cushions.

"Bloody hell!"

Wesley's heart seemed to be wanting to jump out of his chest, it was racing so hart. He didn't dare to look at Spike but bent down to retrieve his whiskey tumbler. Miraculously it hadn't shattered. 'It should have,' Wesley thought glumly, 'like it shattered whatever was happening here just now.'

"Looks like you've had enough to drink, pet," Spike stated, if only to break the deafening silence.

"I guess you're right," Wes sighed and dared to throw a quick glance at the vampire. But Spike didn't meet his eyes, he was staring at his knees instead. "Usually I'm not a big drinker. And tonight I've had more than my share. I feel…" Wes broke off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He had no idea how he felt right now. Disappointed? Confused? Drunk? All of it, and then some.

"Yeah," Spike nodded. "I'm knackered. Let's call it a night."

He stood up to turn off the music. Wesley tried to raise from the couch as well but he seemed to be more shaken than the vampire. He stumbled slightly and was about to fall over the carpet when two strong hands suddenly shot out to catch him. Spike put his hands on Wesley's waist and pulled him to his feet.

"You okay?" he watched Wesley closely.

"I… I believe so," Wesley answered slowly and raised his eyes to the vampire's face. Immediately he felt the need to close the gap between them and involuntarily his hands came up to rest lightly on Spike's arms.

Two pairs of blue eyes bore into each other, neither of them able to pull away. The moment went on for what seemed like hours. The world around them vanished in a haze, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, just the two of them standing there in the living room, unable to move, to look away… but also, Wesley noticed eventually, unable to go any further.

He sobered instantly. He let go of Spike and took two steps back. "I…ugh, I should go to sleep." Wesley tried to sound as casual as possible.

"All right, pet." Spike was very glad that vampires didn't blush.

"Okay," Wesley mumbled, "Night, Spike!" He started walking towards his bedroom but hesitated in the doorway. Perhaps it was the alcohol in his system but Wesley didn't want to leave things like this. Not if there was a chance for… more

"Spike?" he asked the vampire who still stood in front of the couch.

"Hhm?"

"You don't have to…" he stopped, suddenly self-conscious again.

"What? Sleep?" Spike chuckled. "I know, mate, but somehow you got me hooked on the whole 'sleep-at-night-walk-around-during-the-day' thing. Bloody pathetic excuse for a vampire, am I not?"

"No," Wesley answered nervously, "I meant…the couch." He blushed but continued determined: "You don't have to sleep on the couch. My bed is more than big enough for two and..."

Spike turned his head without turning his entire body and cocked an eyebrow at Wesley. When he saw the unspoken invitation in Wesley's eyes Spike swallowed hard.

"Ugh, look, Wes." Spike said uncomfortably, "Thanks, but…ugh…"

Wesley stiffened slightly. "Oh, well… I thought… okay, it is… apparently I misunderstood your… ugh…" He turned and headed for his bedroom.

"No, wait!" Spike rushed after him, "Luv, wait. Let me…"

Wesley turned and gave Spike an icy glare that would have scared even Angel. "Save it, Spike! I understand you perfectly!"

And with that he closed the door in front of a stunned Spike's face.

* * *

 

Spike lay on the couch and stared into the darkness.

'I'm such a wanker! Why didn't I kiss him?'

But Spike knew why. When he'd moved in, there had suddenly been images of another Wes inside his mind. A different Wes, with mussed hair, stubble in his face and with a determined look from eyes that reflected everything but revealed nothing.

Two different people, two different lives.

And he didn't belong in this life.

Didn't Wesley see it?

No matter how tempting his offer had been. And, hell, it had been tempting, And worse, Spike knew how much effort it had probably cost Wesley to say it aloud. 'I don't think I'd have the balls to do it!' Spike thought and turned to his back, 'No matter how different he looks, he has it nevertheless. He has the same guts, the same strength. Even if he doesn't know it yet. I do. I know him!'

And that's why Spike couldn't screw it all, he couldn't mess with Wesley.

But he couldn't sleep either. And from the noises heard from the other man's room Wesley lay in his bed tossing and turning, too.

Spike sighed, then he stood up and walked over to the bedroom door. Halfway there though he hesitated again. He shouldn't mess with Wesley. He'd sure as hell bollocks it up like he always did and then, where would that leave him? Without a friend, without a place to sleep, and without help to get back to his time.

He needed Wesley. And, more importantly, he didn't wanna hurt him. Spike knew that if he'd walk through that door now, no matter his good intentions and honest feelings, he'd manage to screw things up and Wesley would be the one to get hurt.

So, no. He couldn't go in there. But, Spike paced restlessly back and forth, he couldn't also stay here, just a hair's breath away from temptation.

So, after one last longing glance at Wesley's door, Spike turned on the spot, grabbed his duster and went out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If by chance you happen to be one of the few people who've read this story before, then you should have noticed that this is where this version diverges from the first. I didn't like what I wrote back then, so... I changed it.
> 
> If you haven't read this before... never mind :-)


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

When Wesley entered the living room the next morning everything was quiet and there was no sign of Spike. The neatly folded cover was placed on the couch and the morning sun sent rays of sunlight through small glimpses in the closed blinds.

"Spike?" Wesley shouted anxiously.

The bleached blond head of the vampire poked around the kitchen corner.

"Oh. I thought you might be gone."

"Sorry, pet. No such luck," Spike muttered and vanished in the kitchen again. Wesley followed at a slower pace.

Spike had returned to pouring blood into a mug and opened the microwave to heat it. He had his back turned towards Wesley.

"Spike, about last night…" Wesley started unsure how to go on. He wasn't even sure he wanted to address the awkwardness that had occurred the previous night. But… surely they couldn't leave things like this, could they? Pretend it never happened?

"What about it?" the vampire' s voice sounded indifferent. He didn't turn around.

Oh. Well, apparently Spike could. Wesley suppressed a sigh and straightened his shoulders. He could pretend as well.

"Nothing," he stated flatly. Filling a mug with fresh coffee – had Spike brewed it? He didn't even drink coffee – Wesley added, all business-like: "So, let's find the lost words veiled, shall we?"

Finally Spike turned towards the other man, only to catch him walking back to the living room, not meeting his eyes. Spike felt a brief pain in his guts, a pain he recognized immediately as guilt, but he squashed it down forcefully. Sure, he knew he had taken the coward's way out by squashing Wesley's attempt to discuss last night, but…

Well, what good would it do to talk about it? There wasn't even an 'it', nothing had happened. Okay, so maybe he'd wanted to kiss Wesley, and maybe Wesley had wanted to kiss him too… or not. Maybe it had simply been the booze. Spike couldn't be sure.

And anyway… even if… nothing could ever come off it, right? He didn't belong here, he had no future here, he needed to go back to his time, to his Wesley…

"Oh, bugger!" Spike cursed out loud and smashed his mug onto the counter. This was not happening! He wasn't falling in love with Wesley. Not with this one and not with the older version from his time! He wasn't!

"Right," he answered loudly as if to convince himself. Spike shook his head and finally followed Wesley into the living room, all the while pretending that what he heard were just his heavy boots on the floor and surely not his dead heart screaming 'Liar! Liar!' while slowly crumbling to pieces.

* * *

 

When Cordelia stopped by Wesley's apartment later that evening, a box of freshly baked donuts under her arm and ready to sacrifice her Saturday night for a round of research in more or less good and friendly company, she was shocked to find the atmosphere colder than an icebox.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she asked sternly, hands on her hips and throwing glares from Wesley to Spike and back again.

Spike was the first to meet her eyes, if only briefly. The vampire was sprawled on the couch and looked at her over the book he had been reading before his eyes travelled back to the pages again. "Nothing's wrong, pet."

"Wesley?" Cordelia stalked over to the man seated at his desk, head nearly buried in a book and not looking up. "Wesley!" the girl shouted directly into his ear. That at least made him look up.

"What?"

"What happened? And don't you dare tell me it's nothing, cause I know when you're lying and this frosty air in here simply doesn't add up to the U.S.T. you were giving off last night!"

Cordelia noticed Wesley's eyes dart to Spike for a second before he looked at her again and stammered: "L-last night? Why, what… I, nothing happened last night!"

"Right you are, pet. Nothing happened at all!" Spike's voice dripped with sarcasm. Cordelia rushed up to the couch and took the book out of Spike's hands to force him to look at her again.

"Oi, do you mind? I was reading that!" Spike sat up and with inhuman speed he stole the book back. Then he settled down again and drawled: "Excuse me while I'm trying to find a way back to my own time and out of this mess. The sooner I'll leave here the better!"

"Okay," Cordelia stomped over to Wesley again. She grabbed his arm, pulled him to his feet and dragged the barely protesting man out of Spike's earshot (or so she thought) and into the kitchen. Closing the door forcefully behind them Cordelia roughly pushed Wesley onto a chair before she seated herself on the other one and took his hand in hers over the tabletop.

"Wesley, look at me!" her tone was surprisingly soft but demanding nevertheless. Wesley couldn't help but comply. He met her eyes for a brief moment before he cast them onto their joined hands again.

"You had sex with him, didn't you?"

Wesley's mouth fell open in shock. Eyes as round as saucers stared at the girl and all Wesley managed to stutter was: "What? No! Why would you…?"

"Oh, puh-lease! Give me some credit!" the girl huffed and then smiled. "The way you two were acting last night at the club? Constantly bickering, never leaving the other's side for long, and the few moments Cynthia did catch you alone? You were always seeking his eyes over her head. And the way Spike kept finding ways to touch you? Come on, Wes! I would have to have been blind not to notice!"

A small smile had started to play around Wesley's lips. "You think so?"

"Oh, come on," Cordelia huffed. "You were totally obvious, both of you!"

When all she got from Wesley was a blush and a shrug she went on: "Okay, if you don't wanna spill, mister, then I'll let you know what I think happened." Cordelia took a deep breath and launched into it. "After Spike made you drunk enough to fall for his, I have to admit very sexy, flirting, you two got home where he seduced you and then, after he… you know, got what he wanted, he cast you aside and tried to put it off as a drunken tumble and now he's all cocky and cool about it and you're disappointed. Does that cover it?"

Wesley tried to shake himself out of the stunned stupor. "No! Absolutely not! Nothing happened. And certainly nothing of that sort."

"No?"

"No," Wesley stated forcefully. "And it's none of your business anyway."

Cordelia didn't look the least bit offended. "It is when two of my friends, who obviously have the hots for each other, sit around moping and being complete idiots!"

Wesley lifted an eyebrow. "You think Spike's your friend?"

"Well," the girl thought about it. "Not exactly. But he's not… not…" When nothing came to mind Cordelia glared over the table. "Don't try to change the subject, mister! Tell me what happened!"

"Nothing happened, I swear," Wesley sighed and under Cordelia's fierce glare continued softly: "We almost kissed, and then… we didn't."

"Why not?"

"Well, my own stupid clumsiness aside, I don't know." Seeing Cordelia's questioning look Wesley elaborated: "I dropped my tumbler right when we were about to… you know."

"So? That's it?"

"That's it. The moment was broken and then… there was another moment but," Wesley shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I must have misunderstood."

"Yeah, right!" Cordelia snorted. "Come on, Wesley. I've seen the two of you. There was nothing to misunderstand. He's totally fallen for you."

"You truly think so?" Wesley asked full of hope.

"I know so!" Cordelia replied and squeezed his hand.

"And how exactly would you know?" a soft voice suddenly asked from behind.

The two humans quickly turned around and saw Spike standing in the open doorway. Cordelia took in his seemingly cool posture that didn't blend with the tense look in his clear blue eyes and decided in a blink of an eye that she'd been right.

It was more than obvious that Spike had fallen as fast and hard for Wesley than it was the other way round. 'Well, good for them!' she thought pleased and stepped away from Wesley to let him get up. The girl threw up her arms dramatically and announced: "I'm vision-girl, Spike! It's my job to know things!"

With a gesture true to a great actress she threw her hair over her shoulder and left the kitchen, her high heels clapping soundly on the floor till she'd closed the apartment door behind her.

Wesley's eyes followed her but eventually snapped back to Spike. "So…"

"Yeah," Spike's eyes were glued to the floor. "About what she said..."

"Yes?"

"Look, pet," Spike finally looked up. "You didn't get it wrong last night. It's just that… Well, it's not that… oh bloody hell!"

"That clears things up immensely, Spike."

"So you do the talking then!" Spike groused frustrated.

"Ugh," Wesley stammered.

"See, not that easy, is it?"

"Perhaps it's not meant to be," Wesley murmured and, a certain song suddenly popping into his head, added under his breath: "Love's not meant to be easy."

Oh dear lord, had he really just said that out loud? Wesley blushed furiously and tried to back pedal: "That is… I didn't mean, I just, ugh…"

"Right," Spike sighed and shook his head. Then he swallowed his pride and fear and just came out with it: "Look, here it goes: I like you. And I want you. I wanted to snog you last night and the night before that and I want to now and probably will tomorrow as well. But!"

Wesley stared wide-eyed at him. "But?"

"But, what good would it do? You'd only get hurt. I'm wrong here, Wes. Don't you see it? I don't belong here and…"

"I know that, Spike." Wesley took a brave step towards the vampire that, if he'd not been mistaken, had just declared his love for him. "But I… I don't care. I want you, too."

Spike took a step back. "I know, luv. I know you, and that's the problem."

Wesley frowned, slightly offended, but Spike went on already: "I'm from the future, Wes. And I know you there. And I look at your face now, and I see the difference in your eyes and…and yet I see that you're him even if you don't know it yet. But… but I can't be the one to show you. You know that I don't belong here. I don't know why I ended up here or if there is a reason at all, but…I have to go back… I want to go back. I can't stay… and that's why…!"

"So you're saying," Wesley frowned, " what is it that you're saying?"

"I don't know, luv." Spike stroked through the short hair on his neck and started pacing, a trait Wesley had come to associate with Spike being nervous. "I've already messed things up by coming here. And who knows what else I'd screw up if I'd let myself… if we'd…?"

Wesley hadn't even considered that. He'd been so concerned with whether or not Spike returned his feelings that he'd all but forgotten about the time travel and it's consequences.

"You're right," he finally conceded. "I didn't even think… A little guidance on time travel and its consequences wouldn't go amiss right now!"

"What did you just say?" Spike suddenly stared at Wesley as if he'd just seen a ghost. "Guidance?"

"Ugh, yes. What I meant is…"

"Oh, bloody hell! How could I have been so bloody stupid?" Spike shouted, slapped his forehead with one hand and at the same time smashed the other on the kitchen counter.

"Spike?" Wesley watched the agitated vampire nervously. "Spike, what's…"

"Oh, damn it! Why didn't I think of it before?" Spike grabbed Wesley by the hand and pulled him out of the kitchen to the front door.

"Spike, wait!" Wesley screeched to a halt and got out of the vampire's strong grip. "What has gotten into you all of a sudden? Talk to me!"

But Spike simply shoved Wesley out of the apartment door, nearly bouncing up and down beside him from badly suppressed joy. Or was that fury? Wesley wasn't so sure.

"Wes, come on, we have to go!" Spike urged.

"Go where?"

"To get a little guidance!"

"Huh?" was all Wesley managed while he stumbled after Spike.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's my all-time-favourite chapter. I truly hope you like it as much as I do.

**Chapter Fourteen**

 

"What is this place?" Wesley asked bewildered and looked around.

After a five-minute-ride on the motorcycle in neck-breaking speed Spike had stopped in one of LA's more seedy parts and had ushered Wesley down a narrow flight of stairs.

And now they were standing in the entrance to a dim room crowded with what looked like every sort of demon that had ever crawled the earth. Demons were everywhere.

They were sitting at small tables, they occupied the long counter to Wesley's right and they even lurched in front of a small stage. Among them were a few humans (or what looked like humans), and a young man was currently performing a karaoke-version of an old Elvis-Song on stage.

"Well, what's it look like?" Spike smirked over his shoulder. "There's music, or what passes for such, the booze is flowing, so…?" He turned away again and tried to overlook the crowd. When he'd spotted a small free space at the end of the counter Spike made his way towards it and Wesley followed anxiously.

"A bar? You brought me to a demon bar?"

"Not just any demon bar! It's a demon **karaoke** bar!" Spike had noticed the nervous look in Wesley's eyes and tried to calm him down. "Relax pet, nobody's looking for trouble here. Besides, there's no violence allowed, some kind of protection spell or what-not."

"Really?" Wesley asked interested. "How does it work?"

"Haven't got a clue, pet."

"Oh."

Pushing further inside Wesley indeed noticed that all the demons seemed to co-exist in a more or less friendly way and he relaxed a little. That's when his curiosity was piqued again. Why had Spike brought him here of all places? What was it the vampire hoped to find in a place as such?

"Spike," Wesley voiced his thoughts at last, "Why did you… I mean, what are we looking for? I thought…"

Spike turned around and faced Wesley but kept walking backwards. "You thought what, pet?"

"Well, I thought we'd established that this thing between us… you know." When Spike didn't answer Wesley sighed frustrated and went on: "Well, one minute you're about to kiss me, or so I had hoped, and the next you drag me into a karaoke-bar? Excuse me if I have a little trouble following that logic!"

It seemed that Spike had finally noticed Wesley's more than agitated state because he stopped walking and took hold of the man's hand. Then he tried to explain: "Look, Wes. You said something about guidance, didn't you?"

"Yes," Wesley sighed, "but I only meant…"

"You see, that's what we're here for. Guidance!"

"Guidance? In a karaoke-bar?" Wesley wasn't sure he'd heard that right. "Spike, I don't think listening to karaoke will tell us… well, anything really!"

"Well, maybe not listening but…" Spike left the sentence unfinished and instead turned away again and marched off. Wesley followed until they'd reached the free space at the counter, right between a lizard-like-demon and something that looked like it had hopped right out of the Sesame Street.

Spike wasn't phased in the slightest by the unusual company but ordered two beers. When the barkeeper placed them in front of him he drowned half of his in one go.

"Spike," Wesley's annoyance was beginning to colour his voice, "you know, at some point today I would like to know what we're doing here. I mean, we've important work to do at home and yet here we are, stuck between Mini-Godzilla and Oscar the Grouch!" With a look to his right he added: "No offence!"

Spike laughed at the demon's indignant huff and then he let his eyes wander around the room.

"Are you looking for someone in particular?" Wesley asked, if only to get Spike talking again.

But before the vampire got the chance to answer a tall green-skinned-demon in a white suit suddenly approached and said, smiling widely:

"Welcome to Caritas, gorgeous! I hope you're enjoying yourselves?"

Wesley jerked slightly at the sight of the two red horns poking out of the demon's head, but Spike grinned and answered:

"Lorne! Mate, it's bloody good to see you again!"

The demon frowned. "Again? Ugh, I can't believe I don't remember a cute guy like you, sweetie-pie. I'm sorry!"

"Oh, never mind. You don't know me yet, but I guess after my little performance up there you'll get to know my problem."

"Problem? Oh, boy, does anybody ever come here for his own amusement? I guess not. But I can already tell that with your voice on stage I don't have to worry about closing early." With that the green demon walked away.

Wesley's gaze followed him. Then he looked back at Spike, who had just drowned his beer and started to get up.

"W-w…wait! What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm going up there," Spike pointed to the now empty stage.

"You are going to sing?" Wesley gawked.

"Look, Wes. If you sing Mr. Green-Jeans there somehow senses your future, your problems…well, all your heart and soul. And then he tells you… well, something. So, guidance!"

He smiled at Wesley and touched his hand briefly. Then he made his way through the crowd. He reached the stage, climbed up and placed his lean body onto a barstool standing in the headlights. Wesley saw him exchanging a few words with the green demon from before who then handed Spike a guitar.

'Okay, what now?' Wesley thought and stood up to have a better view. The vampire had taken off his black duster and had already begun to play some slow and melancholic changes.

"Oh no, not another boring love-song," Mini-Godzilla next to Wesley complained in astonishingly clear English.

"Ssshhhht!" Wesley hissed at shot him a glare. Then he took his eyes back to the vampire on stage. He was totally mesmerized by the sight of Spike sitting there on stage, bleached blond hair gleaming in the limelight, eyes downcast and one foot slowly bobbing in rhythm.

But then Spike looked up and searched the crowd for Wesley. Their eyes locked and Spike's eyes seemed to beg: 'Please listen to me, this one's for you!'

And then Spike began to sing:

_So lately been wondering_   
_Who will be there to take my place_   
_When I'm gone you'll need love_   
_To light the shadows on your face_

_If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all_   
_Then between the sand and stone_   
_Could you make it on your own_

_If I could, then I would_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_   
_Way up high or down low_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_

Wesley felt cold shivers run down his spine and his knees go limp. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Spike had an incredible voice and the beautiful words combined with the melancholic tune struck a chord deep inside Wesley's soul. They seeped through his body, into his very bones, and touched his heart, shaking it to it's core.

They cut like a knife and all Wesley could do was stand there with his mouth wide open, his heart beating a hundred times per second, his throat dry and his eyes glued to the stage where Spike put everything he had in his song.

_And maybe, I'll find out_   
_A way to make it back someday_   
_To watch you, to guide you_   
_Trough the darkest of your days_   
_If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all_   
_Then I hope there's someone out there_   
_Who can bring me back to you_

"Oh Lord!" Wesley gasped.

_If I could, then I would_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_   
_Way up high or down low_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_

"Oh Lord," Wesley repeated when the truth hit him like a sledgehammer. He suddenly understood.

_Run away with my heart_   
_Run away with my hope_   
_Run away with my love_

_I know now, just quite how_   
_My life and love might still go on_   
_In your heart, in your mind_   
_I'll stay with you for all of time_

Wesley didn't notice the crowd around him nor the tears starting to roll down his flushed face. All he could see was Spike with his bright blue eyes locked to his own. And all he could feel was the sudden pain in his chest, the pain of knowing: "I love him and I'm gonna lose him!"

_If I could, then I would_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_   
_Way up high or down low_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_

_If I could turn back time_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_   
_If I could make you mine_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_   
_I'll go wherever you will go_

When the song finally ended Wesley was sobbing silently. 'I know he doesn't belong here. But I don't want to lose him.'

Still in a haze he saw Spike leaving the stage to talk to the green demon. Wesley slowly shook his head to clear his thoughts, he wiped away the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand and quietly took off his glasses to clean them.

And then Spike was suddenly there, standing in front of him.

Without a word the vampire took Wesley's face in both his hands, pulled him down and sealed his mouth with a mind-melting kiss.

Wesley shivered and leaned into it. He threw his arms around Spike's shoulders and pulled him close. Their lips explored each other hungrily and they held onto each other like drowning men.

Wesley pulled away at last for a much-needed breath and he let out a soft gasp that turned into half a sob when he looked into Spike's eyes and saw all of his feelings mirrored there.

Spike licked his lips and briefly leaned his forehead against Wesley's shoulder. Then he glanced up into shimmering blue eyes and whispered:

"Let's go home, pet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is "Wherever you will go" by The Calling. You should really listen to the acoustic version, it fits this perfectly.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's dedicated to Andy Hallett (Lorne), who died in 2009. He'll forever be in my heart.

Chapter Fifteen

 

It was late at night when Spike sat perched against the headboard of Wesley's bed with the ex-watcher soundly asleep next to him. It had taken Wesley less than two minutes to drift off into deep slumber and Spike couldn't hold it against him after such a night.

Spike assumed the man wasn't used to the amount of both emotional and physical exhaustion the whole day had held in store for him. And not just this day, last night Wesley hadn't gotten much sleep either. And then, after this day had started out rather frosty, Cordelia's little visit had led to the first of many uneven steps on the emotional roller coaster. And last but not least the night had ended with them in bed. Finally.

So no wonder Wesley was exhausted, he was only human after all. Hell, even Spike felt as if the day had taken most of his vampire-strength away.

So why wasn't he fast asleep?

Oh bugger, he needed a smoke and he needed to think about what Lorne had read out of his singing at Caritas earlier that night.

Without making a sound Spike got out of bed and tapped into the kitchen. He didn't bother with clothes but walked over in the nude. Hell, there was no one else around, was there?

The cigarettes Spike had left on the kitchen counter seemed to wait for him. He lighted one, walked over to open a window and had to smile at his own domestic behaviour. Even with all the uneasiness he was currently feeling his first thought was to not leave cold smoke in the kitchen for Wesley to discover first thing in the morning. Bugger, how far had he come from the evil master vampire he'd once been?

Spike leaned his hip against the counter and inhaled the welcoming smoke. Funny how smoking always seemed to help him get his mind all clear.

Right now he really needed to get some things straight in his head and so he began to recall the enlightening conversation he'd had with Lorne earlier.

* * *

 

_Spike handed the guitar back to Lorne and waited for the Empath to say something. He didn't have to wait for long._

_"Well, sweetie, someone travelled a long way over here. Or should I say a long time?" Lorne's red eyes seemed to look right into his soul and Spike shifted uneasily from foot to foot._

_"Yeah, you got that right." He cast his eyes to the ground and wrought his hands._

_"So, you're looking for a way back?"_

_When the vampire didn't answer right away Lorne continued: "Or are you looking for an excuse to stay here with him?"_

_"You tell me, mate!"_

_"No!"_

_"What?" Spike glared daggers at the host. "But that's what you do, isn't it? I sing, you read. So…"_

_Lorne placed a hand on Spike's arm and tried look mollifying when he continued: "Okay, okay. Calm down gorgeous. What I'm saying is 'No' is the answer."_

_"No?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"No is the answer? And what's the bloody question?"_

_"You don't need me to tell you. It's been on your mind ever since you got your eyes on this young and carefree version of your lovely Englishman. Question is: Will it be just our eyes on him or…?"_

_"Yeah, about that," Spike mumbled and looked to the ground again._

_"Yes?"_

_After what seemed to Spike like a lifetime he finally brought up the courage to ask: "So… It's not gonna work, is it? Him and yours truly?"_

_"Well, I didn't say that!" Lorne smiled wickedly._

_"Yeah, look mate. Not to be rude here but somehow I get the feeling you're telling me jack!" Spike groused. He was slowly getting desperate. "What's it gonna be? Am I gonna go back or am I gonna be with him?"_

_"Why not both?"_

_"Bloody hell, Lorne! This cryptic gibberish is killing me!"_

_The green demon had started to turn away already but stopped and threw a rueful glance at Spike before he sighed: "Yeah, that as well!"_

_"Look," Spike began, rolling his eyes exasperated. But then Lorne's words caught up with him and his eyes widened in shock. "Ugh, what did you just say?"_

_"Okay, this is what you get, sweetie," Lorne stated slowly and led Spike a few steps aside. "Be with him and he will find a way to get you back. He's a bright one, he'll figure it out soon enough. But… it's gonna be a bumpy ride and not what either of you expects. And in the end… sorry honey-pie, but it will kill you!"_

_Spike tried to look not too shocked but didn't quite manage to ban the fear from his voice when he finally asked: "Kill me? You mean, literally? As in… dust?"_

_Lorne didn't answer but started to turn away for good._

_"Lorne?"_

_"Sorry, honey, this is all you get!" he answered with a sad smile and vanished behind the curtain next to the stage._

_Spike stared after him lost in thoughts before he eventually headed around and looked for Wesley in the crowd._

* * *

 

So, yeah… after that Spike had wasted no time and he'd taken what he'd wanted all along. Or rather… who. Lorne had told him he'd be together with Wesley, hadn't he?

That had been the only good part in all this mess.

But as for the other things…

Spike threw the cigarette bud out of the window and then closed it with force.

"Oh, bloody buggering hell, why do these things always have to end with me getting offed all over again?" He breathed heavily. "God, how the sodding Powers-That-Fuck-Up must hate me! I wonder what I did to piss them off so royally!"


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

When Spike woke up next morning he turned his head to look at the man by his side. Wesley lay on his stomach, sheets barely covering his body, arms and legs spread out. With his face pressed snugly into the pillow he looked very peaceful. And sexy as hell.

'Perfect,' Spike let an evil grin spread over his face when he reached out and started trailing a lazy hand down Wesley's smooth back.

That earned him a soft moan from the ex-watcher who moved a little and opened one bleary eye to look at the vampire.

"Hey," Spike smiled.

"Hey," Wesley answered and turned onto his back. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. Spike stopped him by pinning his arm to the mattress.

"Don't," Spike said, "they're just in the way!"

Wesley gave him a frown. "In the way for what?"

"For this!"

Spike bent over and placed a light kiss onto Wesley's pouting mouth. He let his lips trail over Wesley's cheekbones and moved towards his ear.

"Mhm, if that is what's in store for me without glasses then I think I'll go without from now on. All of a sudden contacts seem to have moved to the top of my purchase list."

Spike chuckled at the secret realness behind that but went quickly silent again. Wesley without glasses…that seemed to be a different life. And it truly was. 'I should be lying in bed with a different Wes!' he thought.

Spike sat up and propped his head against the wall behind the bed. Wesley rose too and gave Spike a close look. "I know…" his voice broke. He cleared his throat and avoided the vampire's eyes. "I know that you don't belong here. And that you have to go back to your time."

"Wes…"

"No, wait," Wesley interrupted, "let me say this: I want you to know that I've never felt like this, for anyone. I have never woken up with another person. And I want you to know what it means to me. What you mean to me."

He smiled slightly at the vampire and placed a hand to where Spike's heart would beat.

"It's not just this," he nodded towards them lying in bed. "You are in my heart, and you will always be."

Spike swallowed. "Right back at you, luv. Well, I guess you got that from my song last night, didn't you?" And with a smirk he added: "But you have to admit that the sex isn't too bad!"

"Oh, I don't quite remember, Spike," Wesley teased. "Care to remind me?"

And Spike did just that.

* * *

 

Breakfast (or rather lunch) was spent in playful companionship with Spike stealing food first from Wesley's plate and then off his lips. But soon enough Wesley turned serious again and wanted to know what guidance Spike had received last night at the karaoke-bar.

"Well, Lorne… that's the green fellow," Spike finally explained. "He said that we were on the right track with our research and…"

"And?" Wesley prodded.

"And of course he said that we shouldn't waste any more time thinking about shagging but do it already!" Spike tried to keep the conversation light. He had no intention whatsoever of telling Wesley about the more serious news he'd gotten from Lorne's reading. The 'getting-dusted-again' part was something he wouldn't burden Wes with, if he could help it, that is.

Wesley watched Spike closely while he took a slow sip of coffee. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than Spike would lead on. The vampire was most certainly hiding something, of that Wesley had no doubt.

Lately he'd gotten quite good at reading Spike's mimic and body language, and especially now that they'd become lovers. But Wesley had also come to know when to pry for information and when to simply let it go. If Spike didn't want to share, as now seemed to be the case, then he wouldn't. No prodding and begging would make the vampire budge.

"You okay, luv?" Spike's voice suddenly pierced Wesley's thoughts. "You seemed to have spaced out a little there."

"Huh? Oh," Wesley cleared his head and smiled at Spike over the table. "No, I was just… well, I just realized that there's one more Watcher's Diary I haven't yet looked through, that's all."

"So, back to research again, are we?" Spike sighed, all the while relieved that Wesley wouldn't poke him for more information.

"Well," Wesley replied and stood up. "We'll have to get back to work at some point today, Spike. And besides, I have to admit that… well," he blushed a little but went on: "I'm afraid I'm no match for your vampire-constitution."

"Too bad, luv," Spike smirked and got up as well to follow Wesley into the living room. "Guess I'll have to go easy on you for the next… ugh, let's say two hours?"

"Spike!" Wesley reproached with a smile.

"Okay, okay. Back to the books it is, got it!"

"Good," Wesley answered and sat down at his desk. Spike watched him sift through several notes and parchments, searching for the one Diary he hadn't read yet, before he too sat down again for another round of research.

"Oh my God," Wesley suddenly exclaimed half an hour later. "Spike, I… I think I found it."

The vampire lifted his head and watched Wesley jump up from his seat to start pacing nervously.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, Spike, I…" Wesley broke off and locked his excited gaze to Spike's. "Crawley wrote something in his journal. He was a watcher back in the late seventies in New York."

"Yeah, heard of him," Spike spared a fleeting thought on Robin Wood and his story before he wanted to know: "What's he got to say?"

"Listen," Wesley sat down next to Spike and started reading from the book in his hands: "March, 15th 1976: Yesterday my Slayer once again prevented the theft of The Case. As a consequence the Council decided to move it to a more secure place, for in the hands of the wrong people these words would… no, I shan't think about the horrible possibilities now that they are to be secured within the Archive. The Prophecy will remain hidden and no thieves will ever get the chance to unlock The Case. So the lost words are veiled once more and I shall pray to God they stay that way for as long as Nicky lives and my duties a her watcher continue."

Wesley looked up from the Diary and met Spike's frown.

"So," the vampire voiced his thoughts at last, "these lost words we're looking for… they're another prophecy?"

"What?" Wesley shook his head. "No, I mean… well, yes, but I already assumed as much. No, the important fact is that we now know where to find them!"

"We do?" Spike's thoughts still trailed around the fact that there seemed to be yet another prophecy existing about him.

"Spike, weren't you listening?" Wesley sighed exasperated. He searched for the right passage once again. "Here it is: Are to be secured within the Archive. The Archive, Spike! That's where we're going to find them, assuming they weren't moved again."

"Right, and… where is this bloody Archive of yours?" Spike inquired and suddenly noticed Wesley squirming in his seat. Something was making the ex-watcher very uncomfortable, obviously.

"Yes, well…"

"Spit it out, Wes!"

Wesley straightened his back and then steel blue eyes bore into Spike's of equally clear colour. "The Archive is where all the watcher's knowledge is gathered, Spike. It's something like the Watcher's Council's most secret library, hidden and heavily secured deep underneath the Council's Headquarters in London."

"Bloody hell!" was all Spike managed to exclaim.

"My sentiments exactly," Wesley sighed. "I'm afraid we're due a trip to the Mother country."

"Oh bloody hell," Spike repeated and stormed out to calm his fluttering nerves with a much-needed fag in the kitchen.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

"Shut up, Spike!" Angel ordered and shoved Spike back down onto the uncomfortable office chair the younger vamp had vacated only seconds ago.

Angel started pacing back and forth his office, throwing glares in the other vampire's direction and growled: "Don't be stupid! You can't just knock on the Watcher's Council's front door and ask if you could take a stroll through their most secret library to look for that prophecy! They'd stake you at sight! Not that I'd care but…"

Spike shot a dismayed glare at his grandsire. The poof was right, of course but… oh bollocks, this was all so…

They were wasting precious time, sitting here in Angel's stupid seedy office, arguing about how to get their hands on the sodding prophecy hidden by the Watcher's Council. Those bloody wankers!

Besides, why Wesley had insisted they share what they'd found out with Angel was beyond Spike. He'd been more than ready to book the next flight to London to storm the Watcher's Council's Archive all by himself but… but Wesley had booked no argument and had dragged him out of their comfy apartment to go see Peaches (and when had he started to think of Wesley's place as theirs?).

So that's where they were now, all crammed up in Angel's office. The cheerleader had taken a seat on the second of those stupid client's chairs, right next to the one Angel had just pushed Spike onto.

Wesley was perched on the desk's edge and the great Poof himself was currently trying to wear a hole into the ground with all his livid pacing.

Not that Spike could blame him, he knew just too well what had crawled under Angel's skin. Hell, even he could barely concentrate on the matter at hand with that distracting scent radiating off Wesley the whole time.

His lover, oh and wasn't that a nice term for him, hadn't bothered to take a shower before they'd come here. At least not one to get clean. Spike doubted that the one he'd shared with Wesley earlier counted as such. Sure, the water had been raining down onto them the whole time. But Spike's scent still clung to Wesley like a second skin and he was sure that Angel had noticed the minute they'd set one foot over the threshold.

But so far he hadn't commented on it. Angel had been about to say, or worse, do something. Spike had seen it in his eyes and had been prepared to defend himself with words as well as fists and fangs but then Wesley had unintentionally dissolved the situation by spilling the news about the lost words' whereabouts.

Spike was grateful for this short reprieve although he knew he would have to face Angel's wrath eventually. Right now though Peaches seemed to be holding his temper in check for the sake of finding a solution to their problem.

Not that they were close to finding one of course. How the hell should they manage to steal the lost words from right under the sodding Watcher's watchful eyes?

Spike let out an annoyed sigh and zoned back in on the argument still taking place.

"What we need," he heard Cordelia speak up for the first time, "is someone on the inside! Wesley, don't you have a friend at the Council that you could ask for… " she broke off and shook her head. "Oh, right! I forgot who I'm talking to. You don't have friends. Silly me!"

Spike was ready to jump to his lover's defence when Wesley held up a hand and said: "Cordelia's right, Spike. Well, not about the no-friends part, or… actually…" he looked up when the vision-girl placed a hand on his arm and smiled.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Wesley. You know we're your friends, don't you?"

"Yes, thanks," the ex-watcher smiled tentatively and shared a warm look with her before his eyes travelled involuntarily to Spike.

Cordelia went on: "No, I meant friends from before, other, non-stuffy Watchers we could ask for help."

"Henry," Wesley whispered mostly to himself after a second..

Three pairs of eyes fell onto him and Wesley looked up. "Ugh, Henry Beauchamp-Taylor. He was at the Watcher's Academy with me and, well, we were not exactly what you would call friends, but…"

"Do you trust him?" Angel wanted to know.

"Trust him?" Wesley repeated and thought about it. Eventually he shrugged uncertainly. "Well, I think he is better than Quentin Travers but... trust him? No more than I trust any one else working for the Council, which means not much at all."

"Then why…"

"It's not a matter of trust," Wesley's eyes glimmered harshly. "We just need the right kind of bribe for him to be helping us."

"Bribe?" Spike looked up proudly. "I like that train of thought you got going there, luv."

"I don't know, Wesley." Angel's voice was coloured with doubt.

"Oh, sod off, Peaches! We're not gonna get anything done here if we stick to your bloody morals. Bribing one of those wankers sounds just right up our alley." He turned back to Wesley and shot him an evil grin. "So, Wes. You got any idea what carrot we're gonna dangle in front of that ponce's nose to get him…"

"You, Spike!" Wesley cut him off.

"Huh?"

"You will serve as the carrot."

Cordelia couldn't suppress a snort at seeing Spike's dumbfounded expression and Angel had trouble hiding his smirk, too.

"Oh, bugger off, you two!" Spike snarled in their direction before he stepped up to Wesley. "Care to explain, luv, how sacrificing yours truly to a watcher will help us get our hands on that prophecy?"

"Sacri… Spike, I didn't mean…" Wesley shook his head and smiled. "What I meant was, look." He took off his glasses and placed them onto Angel's desk before he started to explain: "Henry Beauchamp-Taylor has always had this… well, obsession you could say. With you. He collected every information he could find on William the Bloody back when we were mere students at the Academy and he even wrote his thesis on you, together with another Council member."

Picking up Angel's annoyed glare Spike smirked: "Hey, can't blame a bloke for thinking I'm the more popular vamp!"

"That's not why he was so obsessed with you, Spike." Wesley interrupted whatever Angel had been about to shoot back at Spike.

"No?"

"No, he said that…" Wesley looked closely at Spike, "well, I think it's because he found out you two are related."

"Bollocks!" Spike shouted. "I'm not related to any of those pillocks! Vampire, remember? Fact is I don't have any relatives at all!" With a small glare in Angel's direction he added: "Well, at least no live ones."

"No?" Wesley asked sternly. "Spike, when you were human, was your name not William Crawford?"

"Huh? So what if it was?" Spike growled, obviously not too pleased with being reminded of that. "What's that got to do with any of this?"

Wesley sighed and started pacing again. If he had known Spike would react this strongly towards certain lesser-known facts about his human life he would not have suggested… oh, to hell with Spike's hurt pride. He would have to get over it. Wesley faced the agitated vampire once again and stated calmly: "Spike, I have seen all the notes Henry took for his thesis and… well, the evidence is all there."

"Oh bollocks! What evidence?" Spike snarled.

"Henry Beauchamp-Taylor," Wesley began but then he shook his head and started again: "No, I will have to start at the beginning. Let me tell you a tale about a young girl named Madeleine Beauchamp." Wesley stopped and looked directly at Spike. "Does that name sound familiar to you?"

"No!" Spike spat right away but avoided the other man's gaze. Wesley thought he saw the vampire tense up further.

"No? Oh, well." Wesley turned back to Angel and Cordelia who had been listening closely. "Madeleine Beauchamp was a beautiful but poor French girl who lived in London in 1876, when she became a maid in the household of one Charles Crawford and his family."

Again Wesley's eyes travelled to Spike who gave no sign of even listening but looked straight to the ground. Wesley continued: "Charles Crawford died only a few weeks after the girl's arrival…"

"He died?" Cordelia cut in. "Did she kill him?"

"No," Wesley denied, "she had nothing to do with it."

"He died of a heart attack," Spike whispered more to himself and then he looked up to meet the other's surprised stare. "What?"

"How do you know?" Cordelia wanted to know but Spike simply shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Spike, I… do you want me to stop?" Wesley inquired suddenly gentle.

"Oh, go on with your little history lesson, Percy. Why should I care? It's got nothing to do with me now!"

"Alright then," Wesley took a breath and eyed Spike for another moment worriedly before he continued with his story: "After Charles Crawford's death our young girl continued to work for the family until some years later, in December 1879, she suddenly disappeared without a trace. I believe the family searched for her but… to no avail. And a short time later, in early 1880, it happened that first the only son, William, and two weeks later the late Crawford's widow vanished, too."

"Huh? What's with the whole vanishing-act? Were they Houdini's ancestors or what?" Cordelia joked.

"Well," Wesley explained, "of course we know today that both William and his mother didn't simply vanish, did they, Spike?"

"Oh, I get it!" Cordelia exclaimed but quickly shut up again when Spike jumped from his seat and walked towards Wesley.

"You clearly did all your homework, Percy! Put my family's history into a right little story and all," Spike's sharp voice cut through the room. "But what's that gotta do with this sodding watcher-friend of yours, huh?"

"Oh, but I left out one important part, Spike. Did you not notice?" Wesley asked completely calm. "The part where you, William Crawford, knew very well why Madeleine disappeared, did you not?"

He looked around the room, proud of his Sherlock-Holmes-worthy deliverance, before his eyes fell back onto Spike. But the vampire didn't look the least bit guilty, only genuinely puzzled. Nothing like what Wesley would have expected.

"What are you talking about, Wes? I have no idea why the girl left," Spike stated confused. "One day she packed up her things, told me her French relatives had sent for her and… well, and then she was bloody gone!"

Wesley eyed his lover very closely and frowned. Could it be that Spike truly didn't know what he was talking about?

Suddenly Angel cut in: "If she told you she had to go back to her relatives, Spike, then why did you even look for her afterwards? Did you think she lied to you?"

Spike looked around the room, noticed everyone staring expectantly at him and threw his arms up in despair. "Oh bloody hell, are we in court or what? You wanna sue me? Go to it! Sue me for being suspicious and wanting to know what happened to her!"

"Wait a minute, Spike, please! Be honest," Wesley finally addressed his lover, "you really don't know what happened to Madeleine? You didn't… it wasn't you who sent her away?"

"Sent her… what? No! I told you, her relatives wanted her to come back to sodding France! Why would you think I'd sent her away?" Spike shouted.

"Because she was pregnant with your child!" Wesley shouted back.

You could have heard a needle drop in the silence that followed that statement. All eyes stared first at Wesley and then turned immediately to Spike. Spike, who stood there open-mouthed, pale as death and panting slightly.

"Say that again!" he whispered roughly.

"She was pregnant, Spike." Wesley replied softly. "Madeleine Beauchamp obviously returned to her family in Paris and there she gave birth to Henry's great-grandfather, Lucien William Beauchamp. Named Lucien after the uncle that had taken Madeleine in and… William, after the child's father. You."

"Bloody hell," Spike whispered and plopped into the chair.

"Well, congrats, Daddy!" Cordelia dead-punned and then shrugged when Angel shushed her immediately.

In the meantime Wesley had crouched down beside the chair Spike had fallen into. He cautiously took hold of the stunned vampire's cold hands and gave them a slight squeeze.

"You truly didn't know?"

Spike looked up eventually, face pale and drawn. "No, I… How the hell should I? She never said a sodding word… I mean, we weren't that close…"

"Excuse me?" Cordelia gave a snort from the side. "You must have come somewhat close to the girl to get her pregnant."

"Cordelia," Wesley reproached.

"What? You think they had some sort of artificial insemination back then? Yeah, right! Think again, mister!"

"No, you think again!" Wesley suddenly shouted and stood up to face the girl. "Could you be any more insensitive? Cutting jokes at his expense when he's clearly…"

"Guys, that's enough!" Angel's booming voice cut through the air and made both Wesley and Cordelia look up in shock. They'd completely forgotten the elder vampire was even in the room, he'd gone so quiet after Wesley's stunning revelation of Spike's parentage.

"Right, so…" Spike suddenly broke the silence and looked up to Wesley. "This Henry What's-His-Name…"

"Beauchamp-Taylor," Wesley filled in softly but Spike went on as if he hadn't heard: "So you're saying I am the bloke's what? Granddad?"

"I believe it would make you his Great-great-grandfather, Spike."

"Yeah, whatever. So, you think he's willing to help us in exchange for what exactly? A nice little family reunion?" Spike scoffed and stood up from the chair to pull a battered pack of smokes out of his duster. Wesley noticed his hands shaking slightly when flipping the lighter but he decided to not comment on it any further.

It was only natural for Spike to be somewhat thrown by those news, wasn't it? He surely needed a minute to…

"All right then, call him." Spike stated flatly after he'd taken a deep pull from his cigarette.

"Huh?"

Or maybe not. Spike seemed to be back to business all of a sudden. Wesley stared at him for a second, not sure what to say. He looked at Angel for support but found the elder vampire only staring back silently.

"Spike…"

"Tell this bloody wanker of yours that his great-great-whatever… that Spike wants to have a little chat with him, okay? And that he'd better get us that sodding prophecy out of its hiding-hole so that I can finally get back home and away from all this bloody buggering hell!"

Spike's voice had risen with every word he'd uttered from between clenched teeth and he'd slowly made his way over to the door. And then, with one last glare around his stunned audience, he turned around and left, black duster swirling around his tense form.

"Spike!" Angel shouted after him.

"Piss of, Peaches! Not now!" Spike shouted back and for the first time in their long-standing history Angel listened to Spike and let him go.

For now.

* * *

 

**TBC soon**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for changing Spike's history, I usually don't do that. I like to keep most things as close to canon as possible and I know that it's hard to believe poncy William as we know him from canon capable of… you know, fathering a child with anyone! When this plot bunny first hopped along I felt the need to explain to great lengths the circumstances of William having sex with a maid. But then I thought about it again and… well, since the circumstances don't really matter for the purpose of the story… let's just pretend the maid Madeleine seduced our sweet poet back then, okay? And I guess getting pregnant in the process was just… poetic justice I believe you call it.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

When the plane started to roll over a slightly bumpy runway and eventually launched into the air, Wesley tore his eyes away from the dark landscape he'd been watching through the window to look at the armrest next to his seat.

A pale hand was coiled tightly around his own and although the cold grip was somewhat soothing it was slowly becoming uncomfortable, too.

"Spike?" Wesley whispered at last.

"Huh?"

"It's not so much that I mind holding hands in public but," Wesley smiled slightly. "Do you think you could try to not break my wrist in the process?"

"What? Oh," Spike looked down to their joined hands and then forced his fingers to loosen up around Wes'. "Sorry, luv. It's just that I'm a bit…"

"Afraid we might crash?" Wesley finished with a smile.

"I'm not afraid!" Spike spoke up but with a sheepish smile added: "Just not too bloody comfortable, is all. I've never been on a plane before, you know?"

"Well, and how could you?" Wesley agreed. "Planes weren't invented when you last had a legal ID, were they? And without one…"

"Oh, it's not that. There would have been ways to get on a plane to cross countries but… you see, Dru always loved to go on a cruise." A fond smile crossed Spike's features briefly. "She loved the sea, and the rocking of a ship beneath her always made her… ugh, well. But then she also believed that eating a sailor would fill her up with water, so she'd stick to the passengers only."

Spike finished his reverie with a worried look towards Wesley. He wasn't sure how his lover would react to tales of his and Drusilla's past deeds. But Wesley didn't seem to mind too much for he was simply nodding distractedly.

Indeed Wesley hadn't listened too closely to Spike's memories. He was deeply lost in his own thoughts.

He was still wondering how Spike had managed to get a hold on a fake ID that would allow him to pass inspection at the airport and board a plane.

And not just for him, no. Spike had also had one made for Angel as well. He and Cordelia were accompanying them on their little field trip to England.

Although obviously Spike hadn't put much care into Angel's papers. Well, it was either that or… and Wesley was sure it was the latter, he simply liked to annoy the elder vampire. Because according to his new passport Angel was now identified as 'Stanley Peaches' from Winston, Oklahoma whereas Spike's ID genuinely said 'William Crawford, London, UK'. Wesley didn't know for sure but he suspected that even the birthday Spike had filled in was the true date (apart from the year, of course. 1973 surely didn't hold the truth but… May, 6th? Who'd know for sure?).

Wesley hadn't asked, he'd been too stunned to voice any question he might have had when Spike had casually strolled back into his apartment after two nights of absence, fake ID's in hand and plane tickets for four booked and legally paid for (that Wesley had checked double because he wouldn't board a plane with tickets simply printed illegally).

Spike had even assured that the money hadn't been stolen or anything, though he hadn't come forth with how he'd gotten it in the first place. But Wesley had left it at that, he'd simply been too glad with his lover's return to question anything.

When Spike had disappeared out of Angel's office the other day, angry and obviously thrown by the news about his till-then-unknown fatherhood, Wesley had feared he would never see the vampire again.

But then Angel had accidentally reassured his hopes by reminding him of Spike's persistency in certain matters that would sooner or later lead the blond vampire back to the ones he knew could help him achieve his goal (though Angel hadn't meant it quite as positively as Wesley had taken it).

Angel had pointed out that now that Spike's primary goal (the return to his own time) seemed to be irrevocably linked to Wesley, they wouldn't get rid of his obnoxious grandchilde as easily as they'd wish to.

Not that Wesley wanted to get rid of Spike, but… well, Angel hadn't known that, had he? At least Wesley had thought as much until Angel had pulled him aside, out of Cordelia's earshot, and had unceremoniously shoved him into the elevator and down into his private quarters. There he'd asked Wesley with badly repressed rage if he'd finally lost his mind or if he was plainly so desperate to get laid that he'd allow Spike to… to molest him.

Wesley had broken out of Angel's strong grip on his collar and had told him in no uncertain terms that whatever he did in his free time, and with whomever, was absolutely none of Angel's business.

That feisty comment had led to Angel loosing it completely and he'd actually had the nerve to hit him in the face. He'd apologized quickly afterwards but not before Wesley had slapped some sense back into him via a well-placed hook to the stunned vampire's chin.

Cordelia had heard the sounds of fighting and had quickly come running to see Angel holding his bruised jaw while Wesley had simply been setting his glasses back on straight.

The girl's impersonation of a stunned fish had lasted only two seconds before she'd surprised everybody by jumping to Wesley's defence (and therefore Spike's as well).

"You knew?" Angel had shouted at her. "And, worse, you're actually okay with it?"

"I am okay with it," Cordelia had nodded, arms placed stubbornly on her hips. "Because I know that they're not just fooling around. Angel, it's more than that! They are… I mean, have you seen them together? Oh, right, you haven't. But I have, I've worked side by side with them for the last week and… it may not be too healthy but… Angel, they're in love!"

"What?" Angel had exclaimed and at the same time Wesley's eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets at hearing Cordelia say what he hadn't dared to admit to anyone. Not even to Spike in so many words although the morning after their trip to the karaoke-bar he'd come close to saying it. But the word 'love' hadn't been spelled out between them, and yet… Wesley had known it to be true from the moment he'd heard Spike voice his own feelings through that wonderful song.

Not that it had made things easier. Knowing he'd fallen in love with a vampire, and one who would leave him sooner or later… that was not something he'd liked to think about too much.

Spike would leave him, he would go back to his own time where he belonged and where another version of Wesley, a stronger, more mature and not half as paranoid and pathetic one as himself would be waiting for him.

And Wesley would be left behind, alone and miserable, praying to God or the Powers-That-Be that they hadn't changed the future into something so unrecognisable that he and Spike would never cross paths again.

That thought had been his biggest fear for the last few days, that the future would be nothing like what little Spike had told him, now that they had done something that hadn't happened before. His only hope so far had been (and it was an equally painful thought) that they would somehow find a way to completely wipe out the last week.

Wesley hadn't told anyone about this but… after the intense study of what they'd found out so far he'd noticed a small mistake in one of the translations he'd made earlier. Instead of "The Lost Words Veiled will _restore_ all that was _vanquished_ " like he'd first thought, the prophecy actually meant: "The Lost Words Veiled will _vanquish_ all that was _built_."

A slight mix-up of words, and very understandably made, but with big consequences.

Because now Wesley was pretty much certain that whatever those lost words entailed, they would somehow hold the power to send Spike back to his time and at the same time would erase everything that had occurred here.

It would seem as if the last two weeks had never happened at all.

All their memories of the time with Spike would be gone and… that was not a happy thought. But at least Wesley would still have the guarantee that the future would still be the same. And that meant he would meet Spike again some day.

* * *

 

Wesley had been so lost in his own thoughts then, standing in Angel's basement, that he hadn't noticed Cordelia taking care of Angel's bruise in the meantime.

Now the vampire had held an ice-pack to his mouth and had thrown glares at Wesley from time to time.

"Wesley, you can't be in love with Spike!" he'd voiced his anger at last.

"And why not?"

"Because," Angel had thrown up his arms helplessly while searching for a reason, "because he's Spike for God's sake!"

"Oh, good one, dumbo!" Cordelia had scoffed and had smacked Angel's head.

"Truly good reason, Angel!" Wesley had replied unimpressed and had walked over to the narrow staircase. "So, you have to excuse me, but while you think of another justification for interfering with my private life I have work to do. I have a wayward lover to track down, as well as an old acquaintance in London, I have to prepare for a trip back home to England and… lost words to find!"

"Wesley, wait!" Angel had called out but Wesley had simply given Cordelia a sad smile and had walked up the stairs without looking back.

* * *

 

The rest of the time until Spike had come back to the apartment Wesley had spent trying to get a hold on Henry Beauchamp-Taylor's whereabouts. He'd known the watcher to be still in England but not where exactly, since he'd completed his watcher training shortly after Wesley had left for Sunnydale last year.

Wesley had stirred up one loose end after the other until he'd finally caved and had taken his last resort. He'd called his own father in England to ask him for Henry's address and phone number. The talk with his father hadn't been too pleasant but at least he'd gotten Henry's address out of it. What were a few minutes of humiliation and pain at listening to his father's disappointment over his past failures in exchange for the hope of finding Henry and through him the lost words veiled?

Nothing Wesley couldn't have borne. He was used to it after all, wasn't he?

Well, and then Spike had suddenly been back, complete with plane tickets for them all. Seeing this Wesley had to tell the vampire about his fallout with Angel but Spike had simply shrugged and then he'd helped Wesley shrug it off too by kissing him deeply before he'd pulled him to bed.

And for the next few hours Wesley hadn't thought about Angel. In fact he hadn't been able to form any coherent thought for quite a while. And Wesley wasn't completely sure, but he thought that 'love you' might have slipped out somewhere.

* * *

 

"Thinking of me, pet?" Spike's leering voice pulled Wesley out of his reverie at last. He blinked a few times to clear his mind, threw a quick glance out of the plane's window and then looked at the vampire sitting next to him.

"Huh?"

"Must have been some nice thoughts, luv, judging by the state down there," Spike smirked and threw a pointed look into Wesley's lap.

"Oh, ugh…" Wesley stuttered, blushing furiously. "I was just…"

"Can you be quiet, pet?" Spike cut him off, eyebrow raised questionably.

"Pardon?"

Spike pulled the small seat-table down in front of Wesley and spread a magazine over it. Wesley's lap was now completely hidden underneath. A cool hand found its way under the magazine onto Wesley's thigh, travelling higher steadily.

"I mean **real** quiet! Can you?" Spike leered and traced soft patterns on Wesley's thigh.

Wesley tried to stifle a gasp and looked anxiously around the plane.

Most of the other passengers were sleeping, it was nearly midnight after all. Even Angel and Cordelia, seated a row behind them, had their seats pulled back into sleeping positions. Wesley threw a quick glance at Angel's closed eyes before he looked back at Spike and managed a strained smile.

"I can try," he whispered and then held his breath. He let his head fall back against the seat, swallowing hard, and closed his eyes.

"Spike, get your hands out, now!" Angel's voice suddenly growled from behind.

"It's just one hand, you pillock!" Spike whispered back without stopping his movement. "And shut up now or I'll lose my rhythm. Wes wouldn't like that now, would he?"

"Ugh," Wesley stammered and opened his eyes again.

"I bet he would like it even less if I'd cut off your hand, Spike. Now stop that, or…" Angel had leaned forward in his seat and glared furiously through the gap between the two seats. "I may not be able to stop Wes from doing the most stupid thing in the world, which is being with you by the way, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit here and watch!"

"Why don't you look the other way then, Stanley?" the younger vampire sneered with emphasize on the stupid name he'd chosen for Angel.

"Spike," Wesley urged and pulled Spike's hand away.

"Okay, okay!" Spike finally gave in and Angel leaned back in his seat, but not before he'd clocked Spike's head over the seat. Spike pulled away and waited a few seconds before he tilted his head to Wesley and smirked: "So what do you say, pet? Fancy a trip to the loo?"

"Spike!" Wesley and Angel groaned simultaneously.

"Oh, bloody hell! Fine, be complete spoilsports, you two!"

He grabbed the magazine from Wesley's table and pretended to be reading. Wesley watched him for a moment before he closed his eyes again and tried to get his racing heart back in check.

Once again he leaned back and… tried to think of England.

That had helped others before, hadn't it?


	20. Chapter Nineteen

 

Flight 3015 from LA to London Heathrow had come in two hours late and the barely-awake passengers had stumbled off the plane and through customs in a haze. Most of them hadn't even realized that it was New Year's Eve or, technically New Year's Day already since the big clock in the airport's main hall said 0:45 a.m. already.

So… the new year, the new millennium had come rather silently, without the computers and technological devices freaking out like so many people had feared. Nothing had collapsed and the world was rotating still.

Everything seemed normal to Officer Chester Browne, one of many a poor sod with the unfortunate obligation of having to work on this special night. He strolled through the nearly deserted hall and observed the thin crowd that had just come through customs.

Only twenty people or so, one more ordinary than the other, were carrying their luggage through the hall, ooh-ing and aah-ing at everything around.

"Bloody Americans," Officer Browne scoffed and wished himself home for the tenth time that night. To stop himself from thinking further about the big party he was missing he tried to listen to the conversations around him.

"Come on, let's go. We should take the subway," a broad-shouldered man with dark hair said somewhere behind.

"It's called the tube, Peaches! We're in England now!" a smaller man with bleached blond hair answered annoyed. At least that one had a decent English accent.

"Just because we're in England doesn't mean I have to start sounding like you, Spike!"

"No, you just keep on sounding like a bloody American, Stanley!"

"Hey," a female voice suddenly chimed in, "what's wrong with being American?"

"Oh, well…" the blond guy started but the attractive girl wouldn't let him finish. She addressed the fourth member of the group, a tall dark-haired man wearing glasses. "Wesley, help me!"

"Cordelia, certainly you don't expect **me** to defend the Americans, do you?"

Officer Browne had to smile at hearing the young people bickering back and forth until they'd reached the outside. 'Oh, to be that young and carefree again!' he sighed enviously and watched them leave.

He had no idea that the group he'd just observed included two vampires and therefore came up more than five times his own age.

* * *

 

Their ride on the tube had taken far too long for Wesley's liking. He'd tried to block out the insults Angel and Spike had started trading but Cordelia's excited chatter had made his head spin and he was feeling a rather big headache coming on. Not to mention the jet-lack he was already starting to have.

Therefore he'd spared only one glance at the small but friendly-looking hotel Spike had led them to. "Bluedaws Hotel" had stood in black letters above the door and… blue it was indeed.

Narrow staircases and halls decorated in faded wallpaper of the ugliest kind had taken them to the second floor and Wesley had walked into the small double room he would share with Spike expecting the worst. One look around confirmed his fears.

The shabby double bed was framed in blue iron that contrasted heavily with the orange comforter thrown carelessly over it. The walls were covered in equally shrieking wallpaper with old-fashioned blue flower print and the small porcelain sink in the corner looked as if it had seen better days, too. Many years of better days.

But before Wesley had the chance to comment on it there was a brief knock on the door and then Cordelia entered, a glum-looking Angel in tow.

"Wow, this room is even uglier than ours, Angel!" she stated after a quick look around.

"You two share a room?" Wesley inquired with a small smirk.

Angel quickly responded: "Hey, it's not what you think!"

Wesley's smirk grew wider and he shared a look with Spike. "Certainly not!"

"Oh, shut up, Wes!" Cordelia threw back good-natured. "Just because you go for sex of the undead variety doesn't mean that I would…" she caught Angel's look and broke off. "And besides, you know he can't get any or… eww, the 'nailing-puppies-to-the-doors' would start again!"

"And that's not the only thing Angelus would nail then, is it?" Spike smirked.

"Shut up, Spike!" Angel growled. "I haven't done that in a very long time!"

"The nailing puppies or the other part?" Spike couldn't stop teasing.

Angel looked as if he was to hit Spike but then he shook his head and after taking a deep calming breath he addressed Wesley: "So anyway, Wesley. What's the plan?"

Wesley, momentarily taken aback that Angel would ask him for leadership, stuttered: "Oh, well… I'm meeting Henry tonight at a pub nearby and then… I'm afraid we will have to go from there since I don't know if I will be able to… to persuade him to help us somehow."

"Oh, we will… 'persuade him', don't worry!" Spike drawled and plopped down onto the shabby bed.

"We?" Wesley asked astonished.

"Sure, pet!" Spike put his hands behind his head and leaned back lazily. "I'm coming with you tonight!"

"Spike, I don't think…" Wesley began but Spike sat up again and silenced him with a glare.

"I'm coming, Wes! After all, I'm here for a bloody family reunion, right?"

"And we're also gonna be there with you," Cordelia said determined and Angel agreed with a slight nod.

Wesley let out a defeated sigh. "Well, alright then. We all are going to meet Henry at the pub at eight," he walked over to open the door and shoved Angel and Cordelia out of the room. "We can talk about that later, right now I think we all need to catch up on our sleep."

He closed the door behind the two and turned back to Spike who leered at him from half-closed eyes. "Sleep, pet?" the vampire asked and padded the mattress by his side. "That what's really on your mind right now?"

"Yes, Spike!" Wesley replied and sat down to pull off his shoes. "Simple sleep for once."

"But Wes, we need to christen the bed first, don't we?" Spike pouted. "That's what you do when you're somewhere else!"

"Christen it?" Wesley frowned and stretched out beside his lover. He let his hand travel over the threadbare orange comforter and smirked: "Okay, from now on thou shall'ed be known as… the bed!"

"Not what I had in mind, luv!" Spike drawled and pulled himself up on one elbow to lean over Wesley. He closed the distance between them with a quick kiss before he suddenly pulled back again, eyes closed and mouth opening wider and wider until…

"Spike, was that a yawn?" Wesley grinned after the first initial shock of seeing a vampire yawn had passed. He hadn't known they needed to do that at all.

"Oh bugger! Fine, let's go to sleep!" Spike yawned again and Wesley pulled him closer till the blond head rested on his shoulder. He took one last look at Spike, whose eyes were already closed, before he too let his mind drift away to sleep.

* * *

 

Wesley woke up a few hours later, his entire body shivering and teeth chattering with cold. He found out the reason for that when he turned around and saw Spike leaning against the side of the open window, smoking.

"Spike," he complained, "close the damn window! The cold is coming in! Not to mention the bloody snow!"

"Yeah," Spike replied without moving, "it's great, isn't it? It's noon and I'm standing here in a completely non-sizzling way… best vampire-weather on the whole planet, that's London for you! And the snow… haven't seen some in ages!"

"Really?" Wesley sat up against the headboard and pulled the comforter around his freezing body. "When was the last time?"

"Don't know," Spike shrugged and let his fag drop out of the window before he closed it and returned to the bed. "Last time I was here I guess."

The vampire sat down on the bed but made no move to lie again. Instead he rested his elbows on his knees and watched his pale hands. Wesley shifted over until he sat behind him and let his chin drop onto Spike's shoulder.

"When was the last time?" he whispered into the vampire's ear.

"Europe? In the fifties with Dru," Spike replied and after a pause added softly: "London? Can't remember. Century ago I guess."

Wesley tried to imagine what it must be like for Spike… all the years he'd lived through, all the things he'd seen… the changes in the world, in people… life as a vampire must be mind-boggling if you thought about it like that.

So Wesley could somehow understand the usually brass vampire being so quiet all of a sudden. He brought his arms around the lean torso and took Spike's hands into his own to give them a squeeze for comfort.

"Spike," he whispered after a while, "are you… I mean, ugh… do you want to talk about…"

"Hhm?" the vampire craned his neck to look at Wesley.

"You haven't said a word about… you know, the whole thing with Henry being your…"

"Nothing to talk about, pet!" Spike cut him off and looked at his hands again. Their joined hands.

"Spike…"

The vampire broke free of Wesley's embrace and started pacing the room. Wesley watched him worriedly. "I said there is nothing to talk about, okay? It doesn't matter."

"Spike, you had a son!" Wesley tried again. He was determined to get his lover to talk about this, even if it would be the last thing he would do!

"No!" Spike shouted. "More than a century ago William Crawford might have had a son… oh bugger, not even that! The man was dead before his sprog was even born! Dead, Wesley!"

"You know that's not true!" Wesley stood up as well. "It might have been true before but… Spike, you have a soul now!"

"Oh bloody hell, Wes! Not that again!" Spike snarled. They'd been over this before, hadn't they? Wesley hadn't understood then and he was sure as hell not getting it now. How could he?

"Spike, I don't understand why you want everybody to believe that having a soul is not a big deal when in truth it makes all the difference in the world!"

"Because it doesn't, Wes!" Spike shouted right into the worked-up ex-watcher's face, "It just bloody doesn't, okay?"

Wesley stared at the panting vampire in front of him and tried to understand what point exactly Spike was trying to make. "I don't see what you mean, Spike!"

"Of course you don't! You were a bloody watcher, you were trained to think of vampires as vicious demons!" Spike turned to the window and shook his head. Then, more quiet he went on: "Nothing but a demon inside an empty human shell. Damn, I've heard Rupert lecture the Slayer about it more than a thousand times, over and over again."

He fell silent and stared out of the window, watching the swirling snowflakes and tracing random patterns onto the glass with a shaky finger. Wesley moved to stand behind him and placed a hand onto his shoulder.

"But that's not true? You want me to understand that vampires are more than demons in a human shell, is that it?" He spoke softly, not sure if his question would upset Spike again.

"At least that's not all I was, that's for sure," Spike replied equally soft. He turned around and faced Wesley once more. "Or how else do you explain that after I became a vampire I went back home and turned my mom? I wanted her to be healthy and… and us to be together forever." The last part had been nothing but an embarrassed whisper.

"So you're saying that after being turned you still had your human feelings?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Well, not all of them, but… yeah, at first I wasn't much different. Still William the Bloody Awful Poet. The bloodlust and carnage, enjoying that came later…" Spike suddenly noticed Wesley was smirking slightly and he asked suspiciously: "What? What are you grinning at?"

"Spike," Wesley could barely keep his voice from chuckling, "do you truly expect me to believe now that the news of having had a son don't mean anything to you? After what you've just said?"

Spike stared in shock at his lover and… damn, he'd painted himself right into that corner, hadn't he?

He couldn't help but chuckle: "Not the best way to convince you, is it?"

"Not so much, no!" Wesley smiled and pulled Spike closer to give him a much-needed kiss. His one hand stoked down Spike's back while the other got tangled in the soft blond hairs at Spike's neck.

The vampire lifted Wesley off the ground as if he weighted nothing and carried him over to the bed. He threw Wesley down and climbed on top of him, lips once again seeking out Wesley's hot mouth.

When the ex-watcher pulled away to take a shaky breath Spike purred seductively: "So, about that christening…"

Wesley's following laughter was quickly swallowed by another kiss.


	21. Chapter Twenty

 

At quarter to eight that night Wesley entered "David's Dockside", a small pub fifteen minutes away from their hotel. It was located in one of the darker alleys London's north had to offer and Wesley wouldn't have been surprised to see other than human population frequenting it.

But so far he was able to make out only four or five other clients through thick tobacco smoke, and all of them looked rather human to him.

Wesley crossed the room, alone for now. They'd agreed that Spike, Angel and Cordelia would come in a few minutes later to sit nearby but not with him. It would certainly be better if Wesley talked to Henry alone at first, wouldn't it?

After getting himself a pint at the counter Wesley took a seat at one of the tables near the back door where he could overlook the crowd (or rather the almost empty room). And then he enjoyed the first sip of true English beer in over a year. God, how he'd missed it!

Not that he was a big drinker, far from it. But American beer just couldn't hold a candle against this!

"Missed the taste, Wesley?" a quiet voice suddenly asked.

Wesley's head shot up and, nearly choking on his beer in the process, his eyes fell onto a tall man around his own age, clad in a dark overcoat with a well-fitting tweet suit underneath. The typical bow tie completed the Watcher outfit but the ruffled brown hair falling into his piercing blue eyes made it look stylish instead of stuffy..

'He has Spike's eyes,' Wesley thought, astonished that he'd never noticed before. But then, he hadn't known Spike as well then as he did now, had he? No, back when he and Henry, for that's who the man was of course, had been students at the Academy, William the Bloody had been nothing but a good reason to make them shake in their boots.

Wesley noticed that he hadn't answered and he quickly cleared his throat, motioned for Henry to sit down, and said: "Yes, well… American beer is just not the same, you know?" Then he offered his hand over the table and added: "Nice to see you again, Henry."

"Nice to see you, Wesley," Henry shook his hand, set his pint of ale on the table and shrugged out of his overcoat.

Wesley used the moment to take a closer look on Henry. He hadn't changed much over the past year, the hair was a bit longer than he remembered but other than that…

"So," Henry addressed him again, "are you back from over the pond for good then? One would certainly assume that after the fiasco with those two Slayers you'd want to leave that country sooner rather than later."

Wesley stiffened slightly in his seat but Henry's next words were spoken much more friendly: "It wasn't right of the Council to fire you though, I am certain that even Quentin Travers couldn't have done a better job with a rogue Slayer like Faith. That one would have handed his arse to him on a platter!"

Wesley let out a short chuckle and relaxed. "I take it Travers is not so much in your good books anymore, is he?"

"Well," Henry admitted, "he is still the one in charge, so you won't hear me saying anything against him too loudly, but…"

"But?" Wesley inquired, interested in hearing Henry's opinion on the Council.

"Not everything going on is truly for the greater good and that's all I'm saying." Henry quietly answered and took a sip from his pint.

Wesley breathed out in relief. Chances were good for them, weren't they? Maybe Henry would indeed be willing to help them steal the prophecy from the Archive. Maybe even without mentioning Spike?

"But enough of the Council," Henry continued more joyful than before. "You certainly didn't contact me to talk about them lot, did you? What is it you came here for? On the phone you said you needed to know something about a certain prophecy? Which one were you referring to?"

"Well," Wesley drawled after he'd taken a quick look around to make sure no one was listening in on them. "That is rather the problem, I am not sure which prophecy we need."

"Who is 'we'?" Henry asked immediately. "Who are you working for nowadays?"

'Oh bollocks, good one, Wes!' the ex-watcher could hear Spike's reproach in his head and had to smile. He had really spent too much time with the vampire if his mind started to sound like him. Out loud he answered: "I'm working for no one, Henry. I am a rogue demon hunter."

"Really!" Henry quirked an eyebrow and while Wesley was trying to figure out if he was impressed or amused the other man went on: "What kind of demon are you hunting? And why would you think anything evil would play a role in a prophecy?"

"Oh, come on, Henry! You know just as well as I do that there are hundreds of prophecies about demons or… vampires for that matter," Wesley waved off unimpressed. "I heard you had become quite an expert on prophecies these days."

"Just because I spent the last five months categorizing the Archive does not mean…" Henry looked up sharply. "You need something from the Archive, don't you?"

Wesley was about to reply something but then a dangerously low voice from the side suddenly beat him to it: "Well, well. See here, right quick on the uptake, aren't you?"

Both men looked up and right into Spike's sombre face. For once the vampire wasn't wearing his usual smirk but a truly menacing expression. Wesley had to suppress a groan. Of course Spike had to have his special entrance, impatient bugger!

"Dear Lord," Henry sputtered and half rose from the table, only to be pushed back onto the bench by Spike. "That is… you are…"

"Your dear old gramps or whatever, in all his not-so-departed glory. Flesh and blood, alive and kicking and all that!" Spike flashed an evil grin before he thought again and added: "Well, not so much alive these days but… you get what I'm saying, don't you, Henry-boy?"

Henry's face had gone as pale as the vampire's and he was still stuttering incoherently. "You… I mean, you are…"

"Oh come on, Henry!" Spike cheered, obviously enjoying the situation. He clapped the mortified human on the back and went on: "Give your old man a hug!"

And then he slid onto the bench beside Henry, one arm still slung around the poor man's shoulders. Wesley watched the situation with rolling eyes.

"For God's sake, Spike!" he finally cut in, "He won't be of much help to us if you give him a heart attack now!"

"Bugger, you're right, Wes!" Spike pulled his arm away and moved an inch or so away from Henry to give him some space. "I guess the hug will have to wait till after we got the prophecy then!" And then he put the dirtiest grin Wesley had ever seen onto his face.

"Spike," he tried to get the vampire's attention once more, "where are the others?"

"Huh? Oh, they're over there at the bar!"

Wesley followed Spike's nod in the direction of the counter and saw Cordelia and Angel sitting there, throwing glares at their table (or, well, at Spike).

"And why are you not with them?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Oh, you know me, Wes," Spike smirked. "Too bloody impatient for my own good. Couldn't wait to meet dear Henry here, see?"

Wesley shook his head and sighed. He should have known that Spike would barge right in instead of letting him handle Henry. The ex-watcher took his gaze back to the other human who was still staring speechlessly at Spike from the side.

"Henry?" Wes addressed him cautiously, "Take a breath, he is not going to hurt you."

"What? But he's… and you are…" the watcher broke off and eyed Wesley closely. "Are you a vampire? Did he…"

"I am not a vampire," Wesley assured quickly. He held out his arm for Henry to check his pulse and after the watcher had done just that Wesley continued: "I know seeing him must come as quite a shock to you, Henry, but believe me, you are not in any danger. I will explain everything to you, like I had planned before Spike barged in on us. So, please relax, take another drink and listen, alright?"

Henry simply nodded and picked up his pint to gulp down his beer. His hand was shaking slightly but he had stopped staring at Spike and looked at Wesley instead.

"And Spike?" Wes glared at the vampire. "Wipe that smirk off your face and try not to frighten him further. Oh, and don't interrupt me, okay?"

Spike opened his mouth to protest but Wesley shushed him with a determined "Ah-ah-ah! No interruptions!"

"You haven't even started, pet!" Spike complained but then he shut up and Wesley turned to Henry again. The man had watched their exchange with an incredulous expression, eyes flickering from Wesley to Spike and back, mouth wide open.

"So," Wesley finally began, "about that prophecy…"

* * *

 

It had taken Wesley ten minutes, two more pints of beer and seven glares in Spike's direction to convince Henry of the fact that the vampire wouldn't hurt him. And then Angel had thrown himself into the mix by coming over and Henry had needed another ten minutes to adjust to him. But eventually the watcher had calmed down enough to let the strange group fill him in on what they needed his help for.

They had tried to talk around the whole time-travel thing but so far they hadn't accomplished anything but going around in circles.

"What I don't understand, Wesley," Henry shook his head for the fifth time that night, "is what you'd want to achieve helping a vampire. And what do you hope to find in the Archive?"

"You ever heard of something called 'The Lost Words Veiled'?" Spike asked suddenly.

"Of course," Henry answered promptly, facing the vampire for the first time in minutes, "I have examined The Case. But…"

"I've read that phrase before. But, Henry, why case? Isn't the prophesy a scroll?" Wesley wanted to know.

"Nobody knows exactly. There is this wooden case that no one but Him can open. It is said to hold 'The Lost Words Veiled'," Henry looked around with a frown. "Is that what you are after?"

"Perhaps," Wesley evaded quickly. "Can you tell us more about the case? What does it say about the Him who can open it?"

"Well, the engravings on the case are not all that clear although they are written in plain English. Many people have tried to decipher their meaning, for centuries watchers have sought to unravel this mystery…"

Henry's speech was cut off by an impatient shove from the side followed by Spike's growl: "Come on, Henry-boy, cut the lecture and get to the point already! Do you know what's said on that bloody case or not?"

"Ugh," Henry stuttered, "yes, yes I do. The engravings say:

_'He will come when the time is not right, He who has chosen the Light._

_It is for Him alone to unlock and for his Future to wield with pride.'_

 

Hearing the words Spike felt a cold shiver run down his spine, just like when he and Wesley had come across the reference to the lost words for the first time in their research. He knew somehow that those words were meant for him.

The vampire felt Wesley's eyes upon him and he looked up, locking their gazes over the table.

"That's it," they said simultaneously.

They'd found it at last.

"What? That's it?" Cordelia voiced her thoughts for the first time that night. "What does that even mean?"

"Well," Wesley tried to explain, "I assume these words refer to Spike, he's the one who can unlock the case for he is the one who has chosen the light and for him the time is not right. We know that already."

"Okay, Mr. I'm-so-clever, I actually figured that part out for myself. I meant the last part, with the future and the wielding and… does that mean there's some kind of weapon in the case?"

"Yeah," Angel agreed.

"And for his Future to wield with pride, is that what you meant?" Henry asked shyly.

"Yes," Cordelia frowned back at the Englishman, "that doesn't make much sense, does it? I mean… if it's a weapon then how can the future wield it? It's not a person!"

"We don't know that for sure," Wesley quickly retorted. "It could be a reference to, you know…" he broke off, unsure if he would reveal too much of Spike's time-travel. But then he decided that they had to fill Henry in on every detail if they wanted his help and so he added: "It could mean Spike's future counterpart, as in… him," he nodded briefly at Spike.

Angel frowned: "But that would mean the one to unlock the case would have to be the other Spike, this time's Spike, right?"

"Well," Wesley thought about it. "That can't be right because this time's Spike doesn't have a soul. He didn't choose the light yet. No, that's…"

"Excuse me?" Henry suddenly stared at Wesley, "I am afraid I… did I hear you right? He has a soul?"

"He is sitting right here, so why don't you ask him?" Spike growled and waited for Henry to look at him.

"So, so you…" Henry stuttered.

"Yeah."

"W-willingly?"

"Yes, I did," Spike sighed with rolling eyes.

"And… and you, you are not, I mean… Am I to understand that you think you are from another time?" Henry inquired further.

"I don't think that, mate. I know it!" Spike was slowly getting fed up with this. "So are we done playing twenty-questions or what?"

"I… I'm sorry, but… but that would mean…" Henry stopped to take a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second. When he looked at the others again a smile slowly made it onto his face and his blue eyes got a wicked gleam, no more trace of fear or insecurity in them.

"I knew it! I was right! It all makes perfect sense now!" he exclaimed, "Oh how I wish the other Watchers could be here right now to hear this! I was right all along!"

The others took in Henry's sudden outburst in stunned silence before Spike finally managed to ask: "Care to explain what's going on in that watcher's noggin of yours? Doesn't make much sense to me!"

Henry looked from Wesley to Angel and Cordelia before his eyes finally came to rest on Spike. And then, still smiling proudly, he started to fill them in on the research he'd done while working in the Archive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words engraved on the case were inspired by the BtVS-Episode "Empty Places". Spike reads the tablet in the mission: "It is not for thee. It is for Her alone to wield". So the credit goes to Joss & Co.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fluffy little filler.

 

"Henry, will you be alright walking home alone?" Wesley asked the other man when they, along with Cordelia and the two vampires, left the pub later that night.

Henry chose to ignore Cordelia's badly-suppressed snort at that question, simply raised an eyebrow in Wesley's direction and replied: "Perfectly so, I assure you. I am well aware of the fact that these two," he nodded towards where Spike and Angel were standing, "are very exceptional and unique and probably the only vampires I will ever encounter without finding myself in mortal peril. Should I come across other fiends of their kind on my short way home, believe me, I know how to act. I am more than capable of defending myself, Wesley, so no worries."

"Ugh," Wesley blushed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his wool jacket. "Alright then. Goodnight, Henry. Until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Goodnight to you," the watcher answered with a smile and a last nod in Spike's direction before he started walking off, leaving footprints in the thick white snow.

Wesley's gaze followed him for a few seconds. Then he turned towards the others and asked: "So, what do you think?"

"He seems nice," Cordelia offered promptly. "At least for a Watcher."

"Angel?"

"I think," the taller vampire answered, "that we should sleep on the whole plan and talk about it tomorrow. Let's get back to the hotel."

"You do that, Peaches," Spike nodded and then started walking in the opposite direction, the one Henry had taken before. "I'm gonna go…"

It was obvious that he wanted to follow the watcher, either to see where he lived or to make sure that he'd reach said home safely. Wesley assumed it was the latter although Spike would never admit to it. Not under torture.

The ex-watcher gave Angel and Cordelia a short shrug and then trailed after Spike.

* * *

 

The snow had stopped falling at some point in the evening and the thick clouds had cleared up to make way for a cold night with a sky full of stars. Their sparse light fell down onto buildings, streets and alleys all covered in white layers of crisp and undisturbed snow.

Most parts of London were usually busy around the clock, with shops and restaurants open all night. And even Bonwell Street, hosting merely large family homes built a hundred and more years past in the Victorian Era, usually saw more traffic than it did tonight.

Now the only disturbance of the peaceful air was a man, hands buried deep inside his coat, quickly striding along the road. He didn't notice the two men that followed him from a distance without making any sound.

Spike and Wesley were walking closely side by side along the pavement, but not close enough to be touching each other, and leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind.

Wesley pulled the collar of his jacket up to protect himself from the frosty air. Then he threw a short glance at Spike and took in his pensive expression. The vampire seemed to be deeply lost in thoughts.

"Spike?" Wesley addressed him cautiously.

"Hm?"

"Are you still brooding over what Henry told us?"

Spike's head flew around and he faced Wesley with a fierce glare. "I'm not bloody brooding," he exclaimed, "I'll leave that to sodding Peaches!"

"Okay, so…" Wesley wanted to inquire further but broke off when Spike's arm suddenly shot forward to block his path. Wesley stopped in his tracks and watched Spike take a closer look at their surroundings, face changing from upset to confused in the blink of an eye.

"Hey, wait a moment, I know this… what… ?" He glared back at Wesley and growled: "Where are we going?"

"Huh?" Wesley looked around and noticed that Henry was just about to enter a house at the end of the street. When the door had closed behind him Wes turned back to Spike. "What do you mean? I thought we were going after Henry. Isn't that what you wanted to do?"

"Yeah, but… why this street, Wes?" Spike's voice was barely audible.

"Well, he just went inside that house so… I assume he lives there," Wesley shrugged but then added: "Why, what's wrong with this street?"

"It's…" Spike halted and Wesley noticed his eyes flickering nervously around the street. "It's nothing," he finished then and shook his head as if to clear it.

Wesley looked at the building to their left, the one Spike's gaze had seemed to linger on before he'd averted it again. There a two-storied house stood behind a heavy iron fence, a gravel path leading from the open gate to solid stone steps framed by rose bushes now covered in thick snow. Two or three of the large windows were illuminated from the inside and sent a warm and cosy glow through closed curtains towards the street.

It was a homey and completely ordinary house. And yet…

Wesley threw another look at Spike. The vampire's eyes had once again travelled up to the dark wooden front door, staring motionlessly at it as if he'd seen a ghost.

And something in Wesley's mind clicked and fell into place.

"This was your home."

The softly intoned words weren't a question but a statement. Wesley knew he was right. The emotions flickering over Spike's face spoke volumes.

"Yes," the vampire whispered barely audible. Shock and wary suspicion coloured his voice and shone from his pale face, shock mixed with the kind of pain that only being assaulted by memories would bring forth.

Wesley placed a tentative hand on his lover's arm, trying to lend silent support, and Spike's gaze eventually turned away from the house to fall onto Wesley.

And at the same time a spark suddenly flickered to life in the blue depths of Spike's eyes. Something akin to amazement, awe or even pride over the fact that the old building was still standing and, even more astonishing, being a cosy home to some unknown family.

Wesley could only wonder what it was that would allow these clear blue eyes to express such a range of emotions.

The soul?

Whatever it was, Wesley knew that he loved it.

"Spike?" He stepped closer to the vampire, swallowed heavily and whispered: "I love you."

Hearing those words, honestly meant and directed at him, on top of the jumble of emotions seeing his old family home had brought forth Spike suddenly felt as if his non-beating heart would burst any moment. His eyes widened a fraction and the breath caught in his throat, never mind that he didn't need to breathe at all.

He didn't know what to say, couldn't say anything, and so he chose the only possible way to express his feelings. He pulled Wesley's face down and sealed his lips with a kiss.

And Wesley understood.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

Wesley didn't know how long they'd been standing there on Bonwell Street, right in front of Spike's old home, lost in each other's arms. They'd been exchanging soft kisses and not sparing a single thought on the outside world. But eventually Spike broke the kiss, cocked his head slightly and frowned: "Did you hear that, luv?"

"Huh? Hear what?" Wesley had trouble forming coherent words, his mind was still lost somewhere on cloud nine.

"Thought I'd heard…" Spike's eyes flickered briefly to the house at the end of the street, the one they'd seen Henry enter earlier. "Something."

"Something?"

"A struggle," Spike clarified and, taking Wesley's hand in his, he started pulling him along the pavement. Together they walked up to the house and Wesley noticed that it looked much the same as every other on this street, an ancient brick building from the Victorian Era.

Wesley threw a quick look back to Spike's former home before his eyes fell on his lover again. Spike had meanwhile stepped through the iron front gate and was now making his silent way over to the nearest window. Wesley suited up to him.

"Spike, I don't think…" Wesley broke off when the lights were suddenly turned on inside. Hasty footsteps followed and then someone screamed.

"Noooo! Emily!"

Spike exchanged a short glance with Wes before he quickly hoisted his slim body up onto a ledge in the wall. His feet found some leverage, his hands gripped the windowsill and he pulled himself up until he could throw a glance through the window.

"Spike," Wesley whispered urgently, "what is it? Vampires?"

"I don't think so," Spike jumped back down to the ground. The noise was muffled by the thick snow underneath. "They look human, there're two of them." He began striding up to the front door and stopped at the first of five stone steps leading up to the entrance. "Least I think so. One is holding a young woman who's struggling. Don't know him but from the looks of it I bet he's a watcher. The other, old fellow, is pointing a crossbow at Henry, holding him at bay."

Wesley watched Spike climb up the stone steps and quickly followed. "Spike, you can't enter," he reminded him.

"I know," the vampire threw a dangerous smirk his way. "Still can break down the door for you, can't I? You go in, distract them and get Henry to invite me in. Then I'll take care of these wankers. Shouldn't be too hard."

Before Wesley could do so much as protest Spike threw himself against the wooden front door. It didn't budge. Spike, recognizing his mistake, frowned briefly and then gripped the door on its hinges and pulled.

Wesley had just enough time to jump out of the way before Spike and the loose door tumbled backwards down the stone steps. A muffled groan emanated from the vampire buried underneath the heavy wood. Then the door flew away and Spike sat up in the snow. He shot Wesley a glare.

"What are you waiting for? Go in already!"

Wesley gulped down his fear and, with one last look at his lover, rushed into the brightly illuminated entrance hall of Henry's home.

He had no idea how to distract the intruders, he had no weapons and, honestly, even if he'd had one he wasn't sure he'd know how to use it anyway. Not against humans. Humans who surely must have heard the noise of the front door breaking and who'd know he was coming.

Wesley gulped again and slowly scooted over to the only door on his left, the one leading to the living room where the threat had to be.

No noise whatsoever could be heard from the inside.

He found the door ajar and tried to glimpse through the small gap. His eyes fell onto the window Spike had looked through earlier. Friendly light curtains framed it and to one side stood a highly polished cupboard with glass doors and a porcelain tea set inside.

Wesley moved a little to see more of the room. The floor was covered in a thick dark carpet that fitted the cream coloured walls perfectly. In the middle of the room he could make out a sturdy looking round dining table and four chairs upholstered in the same cream colour as the walls.

'Nice,' Wesley thought and, bracing himself for the last time, shoved the door open and stepped into the room. His eyes fell immediately onto a young woman with long brown hair. She was clad in a baby blue bathrobe that stretched tightly over her swollen stomach. She was pregnant, and currently struggling in vain against strong arms pressing her into a tweed clad body from behind.

Wesley didn't know the man that was holding her but Spike had been right earlier, he had to be a watcher from the looks of it.

"Let her go!" Wesley ordered with more bravery than he felt. The man didn't seem to listen, he just kept on smirking at something over Wesley's shoulder.

Wesley turned around and there, hidden behind the door he'd come through, he saw Henry, a purple bruise on his right cheek, shock and anger visible in his bright blue eyes. He stared at Wesley in surprise but Wesley only spared him a brief glance. His shocked gaze had immediately been drawn to the man that stood behind Henry, a crossbow in his steady hands and a condescending look in his cold eyes.

"Hello Wesley," he said, voice calm and void of any emotion.

"Fa… Father," Wesley stuttered in shock.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Seconds passed in which Wesley's eyes flew from his father's calm face to Henry and back. They stared at each other in silence. Wesley felt his heart beat like mad until he thought it would jump out of his chest. He hadn't been prepared for this!

He had no idea what his father was doing here, threatening Henry with a crossbow and… threatening his girlfriend (or was it his wife?).

"Father, what are you…?" Wesley tried to get his racing heart in check.

"Wes," someone suddenly bellowed from outside and Wesley instantly remembered that Spike had to be standing there, waiting with badly suppressed impatience for someone to invite him in already. Wesley's eyes found Henry's and from the look he got Wesley knew that the other man had recognized the voice at once.

"Come in," Henry shouted and at the same time whirled around to face Wesley's father. Roger Wyndam-Pryce quickly raised the crossbow but before he could move so much as a finger to pull the trigger Henry crashed into him and pulled the older man to the ground.

Wesley stared at the struggling men for a second, wondering where and when Henry had learned to fight like that, before he swirled around to where the other watcher was still struggling with the pregnant woman in his arms.

Wesley rushed up to help though he had no idea how he should manage to pry her out of the strong grip. Thankfully the woman, Emily if he remembered correctly, chose the moment Wesley had reached her to throw a surprisingly forceful kick at the man's shin.

He yelped in shock and immediately bent down to rub at his throbbing leg. Feeling the grip loosen around her midst Emily took the chance to throw herself to the side. And Wesley chose that moment to finally exercise his attack. His balled fist connected painfully with the man's jaw and he sagged to the ground, out cold. Wesley stared down in shock, amazed that he'd managed to actually defeat someone in a fight.

And then Spike suddenly burst through the door. He took one look around and, quickly assessing the situation correctly, jumped in to help Henry overpower his opponent. The crossbow was kicked out of reach with one well-placed boot and then Spike tore Henry away from the older man to deal with that wanker himself. He hadn't gotten a clear look on the man's face yet and that's why, when Henry finally let go and Spike grabbed the older man by his tweed lapels to haul him upright and slam his back against the wall, the vampire's eyes flashed up in shock.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed and shook the man. "Well, well… look-y here. If this isn't daddy himself!"

"Certainly not," Roger Wyndam-Pryce frowned with as much disdain as he could muster in his current predicament. "As far as I know you have terrorized this world far longer than I have been alive. William the Bloody!"

He nearly spat the name into Spike's face and then his gaze went over the vampire's shoulder to where Wesley had by now helped Emily up from the ground. Henry had rushed over to them as well and pulled the girl into his arms.

"Are you hurt, dear?" he asked with a worried look towards her belly.

"No, honey. I'm fine, really," she replied with a relieved smile and leaned up to meet Henry's waiting lips.

Spike turned back to the man in front of him but let his eyes sweep over Wesley first. His lover seemed to be in complete shock by the sudden confrontation with his father. Spike remembered immediately what the Wesley from his own time had told him about their rather dysfunctional relationship. Seeing this younger version now, shock and fright visible on his pale face, touched a spot inside the vampire's dead heart that he hadn't known even existed. It made him mad and for a second there Spike was tempted to just snap the old watcher's neck and be done with it.

But instead he just tightened his grip on Wesley's father's coat and glared at him from under his nearly closed eyelids.

"Well, as touching as this moment is," Wesley's father cleared his throat and unsuccessfully tried to pry Spike's hands from his tweed suit, "I think it is time for me and Thomas to be going."

"Not so hasty, Pop!" Spike shook the man slightly and leaned closer into his personal space. "First I wanna know what you were doing here!"

"I don't see how that is any of your concern, vampire!"

"He's a vampire?" Emily's shocked eyes sought out her husband's. "You invited a vampire into our home?"

"I, well… yes," Henry stuttered, "but it's not what you think, dear."

"She knows?" Spike frowned. "I always thought you watchers were all tight-lipped and you were all trained to keep your spouses in the dark about us. Or about anything really."

"Yes, normally we are," Emily answered promptly and took a step closer to Spike. "But since I work for the Council myself…"

"Oh," Spike looked rather chagrined, "right. I should have bloody known. Well then," he turned back to Wesley's father, "let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we, watcher? What were you here for?"

"He wanted to know why Wesley contacted me," Henry provided immediately. And, turning his gaze on Wesley, he continued: "Why you came back here, why now, and what you'd asked of me tonight."

Wesley threw an incredulous look towards his father and motioned for Spike to let him go. Very reluctantly Spike complied and, pulling a chair out with one foot, pushed the older man onto it. Then he stepped back to stand next to Wesley.

"And you didn't think of asking me directly, father?" Wesley addressed his father. "You had to break in here, threaten them…"

"Of course I didn't think of asking you," Roger replied evenly. "You've been nothing but a disappointment to me, Wesley. And, further more, to the Council. When you didn't come home after your spectacular failure in Sunnydale I knew you would end up in a bad crowd. I just hadn't realized how bad it would actually get." The last words were accompanied by another glare meant for Spike and the vampire opened his mouth as if to defend himself (or Wesley more likely) but Wesley's hand on his arm prevented him.

Spike and Wesley shared a look, silently communicating, and then Wesley sighed and turned back to his father. "Father, I…"

"Wesley," Henry suddenly interrupted and came closer. "Perhaps it would be best if you would confide in your father, tell him…"

"What?" Wesley couldn't believe what he was hearing. Henry couldn't be serious, could he? He'd certainly not tell his father the true purpose for his trip to England. His father, of all people?

"You cannot… Henry, I thought I could trust you!"

"Oh, but you can, Wesley!" Henry's eyes bore into Wesley, smouldering and blue. "Trust me on this one, please! If you are seriously looking for a way back into the Council, this is it."

Spike watched the two humans stare at each other in silence and suddenly he understood. He got it, that look… Spike sought out his lover's eyes once more and tried to make Wesley understand it, too. 'Watcher's got a plan, go with it, luv!' his look seemed to beg and eventually Wesley seemed to grasp onto the situation. He motioned for Henry to continue.

"Sir," Henry addressed Wesley's father directly, "I know that you don't think too highly of Wesley's previous actions as a watcher."

Wesley's father let out a disdainful snort at that understatement and sent his son a level glare before he looked back at Henry.

"But I am sure that… look, the truth is: Wesley contacted me a few days ago to ascertain my opinion on his chances of getting back into the Council's… good graces."

Wesley's mouth shot open to voice a protest but a sharp look from Spike and Henry alike made him shut it quickly again. Wesley's father merely waited for Henry to go on.

"I told him that it wouldn't be easy for him," Henry shrugged, "and that it would take a truly convincing reason he'd have to offer to the Council. Some very valuable piece of information perhaps or..."

"No piece of information could ever be valuable enough to outweigh the tremendous failure he's been, I think. But," Roger eyed his son once again, "I am feeling generous enough to be willing to listen for now. What, do you think, is important enough to the Council that it would make us want to take you back?"

Wesley tried to speak around the disappointment, shame and rage that had closed up his throat listening to his father's words but before he could come up with anything Spike had suddenly stepped up and, fire burning in his blue eyes, growled but one syllable.

"Me!"

Everyone stared at the vampire, different kinds of shock visible on their faces. Wesley's father simply raised an eyebrow.

"You?"

"Yes," Spike nodded, "he's offering me."

The silence stretched uncomfortably until the older man suddenly let out a snort again.

"You truly thought that bringing in a vampire, chipped and harmless as it is, would ever make the Council reconsider its low opinion of you?" Wesley's father glared contemptuously at Wesley. "I fail to see the point in that."

"Then let me make it clear to you, you utter git!" Spike growled and in one swift movement pulled Wesley's father up from the chair. He propelled him away until the man's back hit the wall behind in a forceful crash and then Spike was directly in his face.

"First of all, if I had a chip in my head I wouldn't be able to do this," his fist connected with the man's jaw, "and enjoy the hell out of it. See? No skull-splitting migraine on my part here," Spike smirked devilishly and took a moment to stare at the blood seeping from Roger's split lip. He slipped easily into game-face and his golden eyes met wide-eyed watery blues.

"And secondly, he's not offering some common vampire from the street to you wankers. He's giving you me, William the Bloody," the game-face turned back into Spike's smirking human expression, "the only known vampire to ever have offed two of your precious Slayers and lived to tell the tale."

"I… I see," Wesley's father managed to wheeze out through tight lungs. But Spike wasn't finished yet. His eyes brightened and a smug smile grazed his features when he added almost casual:

"Oh, and did I mention I've travelled in time as well?"

"Ugh, I beg your pardon?"

"I'm from the future and I could tell you secrets you'd die for knowing. A few apocalypses here and there, all of them prevented by the Slayer you chose to abandon of course, prophecies like the sodding Shanshu rot… possibly Angelus' return… the Slayer fighting a true Hellgod and winning… and last but not least the sodding Watcher's Council blown up and destroyed completely. I could tell you about that… and more."

The iron grip on Roger's throat was released and Spike took a step back to let his words sink in.

"What do you say, Pop? Wanna know the exact day you die?"

* * *

 

It was nearly morning by the time Wesley and Spike finally returned to their hotel. Wesley opened the door, switched on the light and then he turned to the vampire behind him. Shaking his head in stunned disappointment, the ex-watcher voiced what had been weighing on his mind ever since they'd left Henry's house earlier.

"I still can't believe what you did, Spike! I mean…"

"Oh come on, Wes," Spike exclaimed and plopped onto the shabby bed, "get over it already! I didn't tell him anything useful and by the way, I had to lure your dad in somehow, didn't I?"

"Well, yes, but…" Wesley sighed and sat down next to Spike. "Offering information about the future to the Council… offering yourself… Spike, you don't know…"

"It did the trick, didn't it?" Spike raised an eyebrow, completely ignoring Wesley's distress for now. "He believed me eventually and that's all we need. I got us a nice, civilized appointment with the wankers' council tomorrow. So we'll have access to the bloody Archive and…"

"And what?" Wesley shook his head again. "You think you can walk in there, tell them what they want to hear and then ask for a stroll around the Archive in return? Spike…"

"Who said anything about asking, pet?" Spike smirked but when he noticed Wesley's genuinely concerned expression he sobered up immediately. Wesley was truly worried for him, he got that. Spike took an unneeded breath and placed a tentative hand onto the man's thigh.

Wesley shook him off, stood up and started pacing. "Spike, you're deluded, or delirious, if you think that this got you anything but a nice, civilized appointment with a stake tomorrow!" He couldn't understand how Spike could be so calm about this! "Don't you grasp the seriousness of your situation? You've just agreed to walk to your own execution for God's sake!"

"Oh, bollocks, Wes!" Spike stood up as well and stepped into his lover's way. "It's gonna be nothing of that sort. I'm not gonna let these buggers get the better of me, okay? They'll let us walk in all right and that's all we need. Then we'll somehow shake them off, get to the Archive and look for the sodding lost words."

Wesley looked suspicious but didn't resist Spike pulling him into his arms. His hands came to rest on the vampire's shoulders and he buried his nose in the bleach blond hair, inhaling his lover's unique scent.

"And how are you planning on shaking them off, Spike?" Wesley whispered after a while.

"Oh, well…" Spike turned his head and started nibbling lightly at the taller man's throat. "We'll think of something in the morning, luv. Stop worrying now, we've got better things to do."

"Do we?" Wesley's words came out a little breathless.

"We do," Spike purred and walked them backwards until Wesley's knees hit the bed. The couple fell onto the mattress in a tumble of limbs.

* * *

 

The next morning found Spike in one of the most wonderful settings he'd ever woken up in: He was lying in a soft bed, his lover's strong arms closed tightly around him from behind and he felt warm and loved and content. His dead body was completely engulfed in heat, it was radiating off Wesley in spades, and seeped through his skin and flesh and bones and made him feel more alive than ever before.

Even when he'd been human, especially then, Spike had never felt like this. He'd never had someone who'd made him feel… cherished and loved… there'd never been anyone.

Never anyone like Wesley.

He made him feel alive and… more, as if he actually deserved it.

With Wesley it was more than just the borrowed, stolen warmth you got from sex, from sleeping with or even next to a human being. It was way more than that with Wesley.

It was love.

Even with Buffy, whom he'd truly loved and in a way ever would, Spike hadn't felt like this. His love for Buffy had been… complicated. Twisted and sprung from something so damaged, so tarnished and on so many levels wrong, that it could never compare to what he felt for Wesley.

His love for Wesley… it was good. It was true and deep and honest and… the real thing. The only real thing Spike had ever had.

And he would have given his soul away in a heartbeat to be allowed to keep it this way.

But he couldn't.

Keep it.

This wonderful thing they had, this love… Spike knew it would end today.

One way or another, no matter how this day would turn out… no matter what they'd encounter in the Council's Archive, no matter what those lost words would reveal about his destiny…

This would end today.

Spike let out a soft sigh and pulled Wesley's arms closer around his cold body. These were the last few moments they'd have, this morning in bed, together…

This moment was their last.

The last chance to make love, to say everything he needed to say, the last chance to feel the warmth, the love he had inside.

Spike turned around in his lover's arms, careful not to rouse him from his happy sleep, and tenderly stroked his love's face. His fingers slid over the slight stubble on Wesley's chin, around the nape of his neck and carded through the soft hair.

Spike watched Wesley's full lips form a content smile in his sleep and brought a finger up to softly trace it, his touch feather light and unnoticed.

And the rest of the time till Wesley roused Spike took his last chance to watch his lover sleep.

And silently say goodbye.

 


End file.
